Broken Hope
by lisbonandjanealways
Summary: Lisbon's tragic suicide attempt leaves her in a coma, and the team is on the edge. If she wakes, what will she be able to tell furious Jane about why she did it? No copyright infringement intended. Rated T for talk of suicide.
1. Anything

**Author's Note: **For those who have previously been reading my fic _Flashbacks, _I promise you that this will be _nothing _like that. Purely Jisbon, with a few twists.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 1: **_ANYTHING_

He looked out the window to the cloudless night sky. The twinkling stars flickered and danced. They painted a dazzling, sparkling picture. He traced the Big Dipper in the air with his finger, dropping his hand to his side and leaning against the back of his chair, sighing. He glanced at the clock on the hospital room wall. 10:25 PM. Then, he gazed at the unconscious, dark-haired woman lying in the hospital bed, tubes shoved down her delicate throat and machines beeping all around her. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to her.

How she had managed to fall - _jump, as he shuddered to remember _- twenty feet, broken a leg, four ribs, an arm, shattered her hips and had a very serious head injury and miraculously survived was a mystery to him. It's a wonder she hadn't broken her neck. It had been pure luck. She was now in a heavy coma, her body fighting its way back to consciousness. She was a fighter. She was lucky.

What made him sick was that she hadn't _wanted _to be this lucky.

That note, the suicide note that they had found in the pocket of her jeans she was wearing that day, would haunt him for the rest of his screwed-up life. He fished it out of his pocket, glowering down at it. He unfolded it, wondering to himself why on Earth he was reading this _again_. He glanced at her clumsy scrawl, eyes scanning the page under the light of the full moon that was streaming into the window of the dark hospital room.

_To my team: It has been an honor working with you all. You are a great portion of the reason I love my job so much. You are amazing agents, an amazing consultant in Jane's case, and I know that you will do something incredible with your lives._

_To my brothers: I love you three more than you could possibly imagine. I have no regrets when it comes to taking care of you years ago. Please, make peace with each other. It's my final wish, as I knew it always would be when this day would come._

_I love you all. Take care of yourselves. I hope you can forgive me someday._

Jane's blood was boiling beneath his skin. His cheeks grew hot, and his breathing accelerated, as it had the last time he'd read it, and the time before that, and the three times before that. He looked over at her again, at the cuts and bruises on her face. At the cast on her arm. At the bandage wrapped tightly around her petite head. At the tubes and machines that were keeping her alive. This was all so surreal.

When the nurse had sent the team and the Lisbon brothers away, claiming visiting hours were over, Jane had stuck around, arguing with the nurse and firmly assuring her that he wasn't going anywhere. _Are you the husband? _she had asked. He had shaken his head. _Just the best friend, _he had replied. It probably would have been an easier fight if he had claimed to be her husband. After arguing with the nurse for several more minutes, she had just huffed, turning on her heel and stalking out of the room in frustration. A faint smile whispered across Jane's lips, a feeling of sweet victory, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come when he glanced at his comatose boss.

Jane folded Lisbon's note and shoved it back into his pocket. He stood from his seat next to the window and retreated to the rolling chair next to Lisbon's bed. He leaned forward, pressing his lips together as he watched her. She had been in this coma for over a week now. Her ivory skin was stark-white. Her hands and fingers were much too relaxed, as he was used to seeing them balled up into tense fists. Her perfectly-pink lips were chapped. Her pretty face looked stressed, and in pain. This was not his Lisbon. He wanted his Lisbon back, and he wanted her back _now._

"You should try speaking to her."

Jane glanced over his shoulder. Lisbon's nurse was standing in the doorway, smiling sympathetically at him. She was about Lisbon's height with light brown hair and chocolate-colored eyes. She had introduced herself earlier, though he hadn't bothered to remember her name. He had more important things to worry about.

"Something tells me she isn't going to respond," he quipped, suddenly irritated.

The nurse took another step into the room. "When I was sixteen, my best friend Jamie was in a terrible car accident. She was in a coma for weeks. The doctors didn't think she would make it." She glanced at Lisbon, her patient, then looked back at Patrick. "Her doctor told me that I should talk to her. Of course, I thought he was crazy, but I was desperate. I wanted her back. So, I took the doctor's advice, and I told her about everything that was happening at school, and what was going on with me. When she miraculously woke up a few days later, she could tell me some of the things I told her about." The nurse shrugged. "Not a lot. Just bits and pieces. It amazed me."

"Thank you. I will try it," he lied, wanting her to just get out.

The nurse, (Caroline was her name, he now remembered) nodded, as a way to say _you're welcome. _"Your friend is a fighter," she told him.

"I know," he replied curtly, eyes flicking to hers for just a split second to silently let her know that he wanted to be alone with the patient.

She gave him one last nod, before turning and disappearing, shutting the door behind her. He breathed a sigh of relief, turning back to Lisbon. Of course, she hadn't moved.

She looked so helpless, so weak. He knew that she hated it when she showed any sign of weakness, not that she could help it now. He suddenly realized that he would do anything, _anything, _just to see her smile one last time. He'd do anything to see her green eyes light up at the sight of a miniature pony waiting in her office or an origami frog leaping through the air, catching her by surprise. He'd do anything to hear the sweet chime of her laugh when he would successfully charm her. He'd do anything to see the adorable dimple that would appear when she smiled one of her little half-smiles.

Despite the fact that he was angry with her, he'd do anything to get her back.

"Lisbon," he croaked, deciding against his previous argument. He didn't give a damn if this was silly, or if he knew that she wouldn't reply. He just needed to speak to her. He needed to tell her everything what has been on his mind since the day they found her, crumpled and broken at the bottom of that cliff. "I don't know _why _you did it," he whispered, hand covering hers. "But I need you to know that every single day for the rest of my life, I will be hopelessly wishing that I had been there that day, at the bottom of that rock, to catch you." Patrick Jane swallowed hard, biting the inside of his cheek. "I broke my promise to you, Lisbon. I promised you that I'd always save you. I broke my promise, and I am so, _so _sorry."

He could feel the uncomfortable lump in his throat swelling, growing larger as he stood from the chair and gently pressed a light kiss to Lisbon's temple. His eyes were closed, squeezed shut to be more precise, as he let his lips linger on her cold skin for longer than he probably should have. He pulled back slightly, just to breathe in her scent, which surprisingly still smelled faintly of cinnamon and french vanilla. Jane opened his eyes, straightened up, and walked back to chair next to the window and plopped down into it. He pulled his knees up to his chest and glanced out the window, where he had a clear view of the night sky again.

A shooting star flashed across the horizon, and he instantly made a wish that anyone could easily figure out. With that, he slowly dropped his head between his knees and allowed himself to release the emotion that had been building up for eight long, miserable days.

**Author's Note: **It's very dark, I know. I hope it isn't _too _dark for your taste. Should I continue? I'd love to hear feedback.


	2. Please, Just Breathe

**Author's Note: **You guys rock. Your reviews mean the world to me. I hope you know that. Thank you so much.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 2: **_Please. Just Breathe_

He was awaken by someone's gentle fingers tapping his shoulder. "Jane?"

His heavy eyes fluttered open, staring up at a flash of fiery red hair and sea-blue irises. He blinked a few times, reaching his hands up to rub his eyes. He had only gotten a little over an hour and a half of sleep last night, and his neck was killing him from sleeping in the uncomfortable chair. "Tell me it was just a dream," he whispered, swallowing hard.

Grace shook her head solemnly, trying to smile at him, but failing miserably.

Jane sighed, turning his head to glance at Lisbon. She, of course, was in the exact same position as she had been last night. Helpless. Broken. If anything had changed, she only looked worse.

"Her brothers are going to be here soon, you know," Grace breathed, easing herself onto the window seat next to his chair. She rested her elbow on the windowsill and held the side of her head in her hand. "They are going to insist that you go home and get some rest. _Real _rest." She shrugged sheepishly. "I'm going to have to agree with them."

He shook his head stubbornly. "I'm not going anywhere, Grace. You know that."

Her eyes moved quickly to the window, chin quivering. She bit her lip, eyes filling with tears.

His heart dropped into his stomach. He felt every muscle in his body tense up. "What are you not telling me, Grace?" Jane demanded, sitting up straight.

She swallowed a sob, wiping at her eyes. It took her a minute to collect herself, and when she did, she finally turned her tearful gaze to him. She took a deep breath, sniffing. "You're not going to like it," she promised in a shaky voice.

"I don't like any of this, and neither do you, so you may as well just tell me." He didn't mean to snap at her. He never meant to snap at Grace. He just couldn't help it, and he knew she understood.

A tear slid down Van Pelt's rosy cheek, and she quickly brushed it away. Her glassy eyes looked directly into his. "They are going to turn off the respirator, either today or tomorrow."

He stared at her, head cocked to the side. It took him a second to swallow what she was telling him, but when it finally sank in, everything changed. It felt like the Earth had disappeared beneath his feet, and he was falling. The floor was creeping up and grasping hold of him, sucking him under. It felt like the sun went away, and it was complete darkness. The color in his world was now black and white. It felt like his entire universe was falling apart at the seams. This could not be happening. He could _not _lose one more person in his life.

"When did you find this out?" he asked her, attempting to keep his voice as calm as possible. He wasn't fooling anyone, for it was trembling furiously, along with his entire body. Grace burst into tears, dropping her head into her hands. Jane reached out and clutched her right palm, which was moist with salty tears, and squeezed her hand. "Grace. Who told you this? When did you find out?"

"This mo-orning," she blubbered. Her makeup ran with her tears all the way down her face. "Before I c-came in here, the d-doctor stopped m-me and... and he told me." The sobs rocked Grace's entire body. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let her head fall onto Jane's shoulder.

Jane placed a hand on her shoulder awkwardly. "Shh, it'll be okay," he said in a dead voice. "Just because they shut the ventilator off doesn't mean she won't be breathing on her own." As he tried to convince Grace that his words may be true, he was silently attempting to convince even himself. Everyone knew there wasn't much hope for Teresa Lisbon.

"Do you really believe that?" Van Pelt whimpered.

He didn't answer. He simply shrugged.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and sat up straight, not even bothering to wipe the tears and makeup from her face. She leaned back against the windowsill, letting her eyes flutter shut. "She's strong," Grace breathed quietly. "She can get through this."

Jane looked over at Lisbon for the hundredth time that Tuesday morning, and he couldn't help but wonder if she didn't want to wake up. She had jumped off that rock for a reason, a reason he would never come to understand unless she was here to explain it point by point.

"I hope so, Grace," Jane finally replied. "I really hope so."

X

Just as Grace had predicted, the three Lisbon brothers had insisted Jane go home and get some rest, which he had politely refused. He claimed he didn't usually sleep much anyway, which was no lie. After several refusals, the brothers finally just shrugged and let it go.

The doctor had not come by to break the news to the brothers yet, which Patrick had found somehwat odd. Wasn't this his job? Jane and Grace both agreed they were not going say anything to the Lisbons _or _Rigsby and Cho. Neither Jane nor Grace preferred to forever be the person who shattered someone's heart.

Around noon, Grace, Wayne, and Kimball all came to the hospital on their lunch break. When Grace had offered to drive Jane to work earlier that day, he had declined her invitation, telling her he would miss yet another day at the CBI. Grace scowled at him, but shrugged it off and walked out of the hospital room, leaving Jane alone with his thoughts and comatose best friend.

Lunch hour came and went, and the team said their goodbyes before heading out. Before she left, Grace grabbed Jane's arm and pulled him aside, making him promise that he'd call her if anything happened. He forced a fake smile and promised her before turning to face the room filled with Lisbons.

The Lisbon brothers did not get along. They sat at opposite sides of the room, grimacing at each other. Jane tried not to roll his eyes at their childish behavior as he took a seat next to Teresa's hospital bed. After a while, the silence was killing him, so he finally turned to the eldest of the Lisbon men. "So, how is that kid of yours?"

Tommy smiled, clearly pleased the uncomfortable silence had been terminated. "Annie's good. Thanks for asking," he replied. "She was recently asked to the eighth grade prom, which she is very excited about."

James, the second, scoffed and flipped the page of the book he was reading. "Eighth grade prom? Why the hell would they have a prom for thirteen-year-olds? They won't even be able to drive themselves."

"She's fourteen, James," Tommy said through clenched teeth. "If you spent any time with your only niece, maybe you'd know that."

This time, Jane rolled his eyes without hesitation, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the Lisbon sister, trying to tune the brothers out.

"Thirteen, fourteen. Is there a difference?" James retorted.

Luke, the youngest, sighed. "Come on, James. Support for Annabeth _would_ be nice."

"Oh, look at you, trying to be the good guy," Tommy muttered.

Luke glared.

Jane whipped around in his chair, fuming. "I want all of you out. Now!" he thundered bluntly.

They all flinched, exchanging skeptical glances, then turned their icy, resentful glares to him. "I don't think so," James shot at him. He pointed to the unconscious woman in the bed. "That's our sister. If anyone is leaving, it's you." He crossed his arms stubbornly, immaturely. Jane briefly wondered if James was planning to stick out his tongue, too.

"You say you're here for your sister when all you do is come here and argue _in her hospital room._" Jane spat the last four words, disgusted. "Have you even spoken with her doctor lately? Do you even know that they are planning to shut off the ventilator?"

Luke shot to his feet. "No! They can't do that!"

"Yes, they can," Jane protested. "Believe me, I don't like it any more than you do."

Tommy was shaking his head. "They can not do that!"

"So, you would rather just let her lay in that hospital bed until even the _machines _can't save her?" Jane demanded, hearing the harsh reality in his words and nearly wincing. "Or until the morphine isn't doing anything anymore? What if this is best for her?"

"You would just let her die?" Luke sneered in disbelief.

Suddenly, Jane shot out of the chair, his face just inches from Luke's. He could feel the redness creeping from his neck all the way up to his hairline. "I would do _anything _to bring your sister back," Jane whispered. "Anything. She is my best friend, the greatest person I know. She has kept me _sane _for all these years. But what if she isn't strong enough to come back, Luke?" He focused on loosening the tight fists that were his hands. Throwing a punch probably wasn't the answer. "Would _you _rather have her just lie there, lifeless and broken? I know that it isn't what she would want."

The room fell quiet as the Lisbons registered Jane's words. They glanced around at each other, this time without irritated glares fixed on their faces. Luke Lisbon was the first to speak up. "I think he's right," he admitted, exhaling sharply and running his fingers through his dark hair.

Jane fished Teresa's note of his pocket and unfolded it, shoving it at Tommy. "Read this," he ordered.

James and Luke crowded around Tommy, peering over his shoulder as they all read the suicide note together. Luke's eyes grew shinier, but he sniffed and blinked the tears away. James shut his eyes, biting his bottom lip and shaking his head. Tommy dropped the paper from his hands and stormed out of the room. The paper fluttered to the hospital floor, and Jane dove to retrieve it and shove it back into his pocket.

Luke stood, briefly wiping at his eyes. The youngest Lisbon brother stood about three inches taller than Jane, and he clapped a hand on Jane's shoulder. "My sister was lucky to have you, man," he whispered. "I wish I could say that I have been there for her like you have."

"She knew you loved her."

Luke swallowed hard. "I sure hope so." He walked numbly over to his sister's bed, leaning forward and pecking her lightly on the cheek. Jane heard a faint, "I love you, Reese," before Luke backed off and fled the room.

Which left Jane with the most irritating and arrogant of the three.

"You seem to be the only one not displaying any sort of emotion," Jane noted. "I'm not sure if that is your way of expressing your feelings, but to be frank, it makes you seem like a heartless bastard."

James' head snapped up, appalled. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

James rose from his spot by the window. "I don't know who you think you are..."

"I am the person who has been at this hospital the entire time," Jane cut him off. "All you and your brothers do while you're all here is fight. And you are the most irritating of them all."

James opened his mouth to speak, but Jane held a hand up and interrupted him once more. "You insult your only niece in front of her father. Have you ever gotten to know her? She's a great kid."

"Mr. Jane, with all due respect, you had better shut the hell up before I take a swing at you," he growled between clenched teeth. "You can't imagine how difficult this is for all of us. Losing a mother and a father was hard enough, but now the sister that raised us..."

"Believe me, I know how it feels."

He scowled at Jane. "I doubt it."

"You don't want to make this personal, James," Jane spat. "Believe me, you do not want to make a contest of who is suffering more because I am almost a hundred percent positive I would win. But right now, that isn't the point, is it?"

The nurse, Caroline, swept into the room. "_What _is going on in here?"

"Nothing. Mr. Lisbon was just leaving to be with his brothers at this difficult time." Jane stared directly at James as he said this. Finally, James backed down and stalked out of Teresa's hospital room, glaring at Jane the entire way out.

Caroline sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "I overheard you and the redheaded girl talking about the doctors' decision."

Jane raised an eyebrow at her. "Isn't there some sort of policy about you talking to people about this?"

She shrugged, taking a step into the room. "Yes, but if you already know, there's no point in pretending you don't."

"I suppose you are here to express your sympathy," Jane scorned harshly.

Caroline shook her head. "I didn't think you would want it."

"Correct." Jane paused, staring at the ground. "When are they planning on... you know."

"Today, around five."

His eyes immediately flicked away from Caroline to the clock. Two-thirty in the afternoon. He only had a short while left before he had to say goodbye. He glanced at Lisbon's delicate face, scarred and bruised and broken. He got the overwhelming mixture of feelings that came whenever he thought about the murders of his family in full detail. Anger, sadness, depression, and everything in between. "Thank you, Caroline," Jane whispered, staring at his boss.

Caroline walked to the end of Lisbon's bed. Jane felt her looking at him but he didn't meet her eyes, afraid of the unwanted compassion he knew he would see. "I never caught your name," she pointed out.

"Patrick Jane," he mumbled.

"Well, Mr. Jane, just because we turn off the machines doesn't necessarily mean it's the end. I told you about my friend Jamie, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

He heard her sigh. "I'm not suggesting you get your hopes up," she confessed quietly. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't lose it completely."

He met her eyes this time. "Lose what?"

"Hope. Just because it may be broken doesn't mean it's lost completely." She raised her clipboard and flipped a couple of sheets over, scanning the pages carefully. Her lips twitched with a small smile. "According to the papers, it is Miss Lisbon's middle name."

Jane almost smiled. He glanced at Lisbon. Teresa Hope Lisbon.

Caroline glanced at the patient, too, then back to Jane. "I can tell that she means a lot to you." She spoke softly, as if she feared this might offend him. "You two were pretty close, right?"

He just nodded.

"I can tell you feel guilty about something. I'm sure she doesn't blame you."

He shot her a look. "I didn't know therapy was in your job description," he snapped bitterly.

"I'm sorry." She threw her hands up in surrender. "You just... look like you needed someone to talk to. That's all."

"Well, I don't. I don't need anyone to talk to. I don't need anyone, period."

"Except for her, right?" Caroline blurted, clearly not thinking before she spoke. Her eyes suddenly widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head from side to side. "I'm sorry," she mumbled against her hand. "I... I didn't mean to be so... blunt. That was completely unprofessional!"

Jane sighed. "You're right. Except for her. Now, please. Would you just leave me with the patient?"

Caroline nodded and left the room without argument, clearly still feeling guilty for her startling outburst. Jane was surprised to realize that her bluntness didn't offend him. She was right. There was not one person on this Earth - now, at least - that Jane genuinely needed more than Teresa Lisbon. His boss, his colleague, his friend. The only one who could put up with his crazy tricks and still manage to show some sort of affection toward him.

This was all so surreal, happening so fast. Two weeks ago, everything was just fine. Jane and Lisbon were their usual, bantering selves. Lisbon was barking orders at everyone and Jane was teasing her for being entirely too stressed out.

"_I don't know if you have ever heard of a vacation, but it would work _wonders _with you," Jane joked, though he really was not joking at all. "Or a spa day, at the very least."_

_Lisbon, who had been staring intently at the paperwork on her desk, snapped her head up and glowered ferociously at Jane. She gestured to all of the paperwork with her arms and stabbed a finger in Jane's direction. "This is all because of you! If you would just listen to me and obey my orders for once in your life, maybe I _would _have time to just kick back and relax."_

_He rolled his eyes, waving that off. "Oh, please. You and I both know that you would go nowhere close to a spa, even if you had the chance."_

"_Not true."_

"_Extremely true."_

_Lisbon huffed. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"_

"_Because you are one of my favorite people."_

_She raised an eyebrow, dropping her pen and folding her hands. "One of them? It hurts me to think that I must share my title with someone else."_

"_Well, you just can't beat LaRoche."_

_She threw her head back, letting out the full-throated laugh he hadn't heard in a very long time. He smiled, pleased that he had the power to make her do that. "Good one, you smartass," she chuckled, picking up her pen again._

He shuddered. _This is all because of you, _she had said. Did she mean it? He gazed at her comatose, crippled body. Could he be the cause of this? Had his foolish, immature actions worked her to the point where she could not stand it anymore?

He shook his head quickly. No. He couldn't think about that. Of course he wasn't the cause. She knew that he cared for her, and would never intentionally do anything to hurt her.

Right?

Remembering his promise to Grace, he took a deep breath, pulled his phone from his pocket, and pressed Speed Dial 3. When Grace answered, he told her everything that Caroline explained to him. After a few short seconds of silence, she croaked, "We'll be there soon."

X

"I understand this is a very hard time for you," Lisbon's doctor said gently, taking a moment to look each of them in the eyes. "I understand that there may be things you need to get off your chest, in case... well, you know." He gestured to Teresa. "If you would like to have a moment alone with her, that would be alright. I am sure everyone here would respect that."

Weeping Grace wiped her eyes, untangling herself from Rigsby's comforting arms. "I'll go first," she said in a shaking voice.

Everyone nodded, including the doctor, and stepped out the room. The Lisbon brothers, Jane, Rigsby, and Cho all took their places in the waiting room silently. They didn't make eye contact, except for James, who briefly glared in Jane's direction. Jane pretended not to notice, not wanting to fuel his immature fire.

"I can't believe this is happening," Rigsby mumbled, almost inaudibly.

Cho and the brothers nodded in agreement, but Jane stayed still. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. Hell, he could hardly breathe.

A few minutes passed by, and Grace came out of the room with her tear-streaked face and fistful of tissues. "Next?" she asked in a raspy voice. Tommy immediately jumped up, hurrying down the hallway.

Everyone took their turns, coming out with watery eyes and broken expressions. Even Cho got teary-eyed.

Jane kept insisting he go last. No one argued. No one cared as long as they got their chance to say goodbye to Teresa.

When Jane's turn finally rolled around, he stood, hands trembling. Grace tried to give him an encouraging smile, but her lips shook. Jane hesitated, before smiling back and turning to walk down the hall.

As he walked, he closed his eyes for a brief moment. _Don't be so absurd, _he thought to himself. _This isn't actually happening. Five seconds, and my eyes will open. This will all be just a bad dream, and I will wake up on my couch at the CBI. Lisbon will be sipping at her coffee, glaring at me, calling me lazy and childish. I'll jump up and throw my arms around her, ecstatic to see that she is okay. Everything will be fine._

_Everything will be just fine. I'm sure of it._

_Please, please let everything be just fine._

But his eyes opened, and there he was. The hospital. Lisbon's room.

He stared at her, hands clenched into tight, tense fists.

_Please, please let everything be just fine._

This could not be happening.

This was _his _Lisbon. Strong, fierce, stubborn.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to her.

Jane took another step toward Lisbon's bed, his throat tight. He took one more step. Then another, until he was right next to her, staring straight down at her. He supposed this moment was supposed to be... special. Perhaps he was supposed to say something extremely meaningful, maybe confess a thing or two. But instead, he just took her cold, rough hand, squeezed it, and whispered, "Please. Just breathe."

X

Jane slumped in his chair in the waiting room, eyes closed, hands shoved into his pockets. Grace had her head rested on Rigsby's shoulder, both staring off into space. Cho sat up straight in his chair, eyes blank and mouth in a tight line. Tommy and Luke paced the room. James was nearly hyperventilating.

Though none of them would admit it out loud, they all knew Teresa's chances weren't great. Free-falling off a cliff and breaking nearly every bone in your body could really do some damage. It was no secret. Yet they all crossed their fingers, hoping and praying.

The door to room 205 opened, and they all shot out of their chairs. Grace chewed her nails nervously. Rigsby ran a hand through his hair. Luke was biting his lip so hard it could have drawn blood. Lisbon's doctor strolled down the hall, clipboard in hand. He stopped in front of them all. Everyone knew what he was about to say. _I am very sorry for your loss._

No.

A small smile twitched across his lips. "Good news."

**Author's Note: **I apologize for the long chapter. I almost left it a terrible, cruel cliffhanger, but I decided to go on instead, which explains the length of the chapter. Anyway, I hope it was emotional and angsty enough for you. Reviews would make me happy!


	3. Surfaced

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delayed update. This chapter took me a while. Thank you for your reviews!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 3: **Surfaced

"I have never felt so relieved in my entire life." Grace smiled as she glanced across the room at Lisbon's hospital bed. Her anxious, worried expression that she had been wearing only moments ago had been painted over with a softer appearance. Her eyes flicked to Cho. "Does this mean she could wake up soon?"

Cho shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Seems like anything can happen at this point," Luke jumped in.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

They all heard someone's faint footsteps coming into Lisbon's room, and they turned. The nurse, Caroline, stood in the doorway, an apologetic smile on her face. "Visiting hours are over, guys. Time to go home." Her expression hardened, and she shot Jane a look. "That includes _you._"

Rigsby snickered.

Jane glanced over his shoulder at the woman in the hospital bed. Her chest was rising and falling steadily. It almost seemed like her eyelids were twitching. Jane briefly wondered if she was dreaming, and what she was dreaming about. A steaming cup of black coffee, perhaps?

Jane was so pleased to see Lisbon breathing on her own that he didn't even have the willpower to put up a fight with the nurse. Teresa would have wanted him to do what the nurse told him to. Lisbon _had _done what he asked, anyway. She was breathing. That was what he had wanted. It was the only thing he had asked of her, and she subconsciously obeyed.

"Okay," Jane agreed. He noticed that Caroline was a bit taken aback by how easily he had agreed to her request, and he chuckled. He rose from his squeaky hospital chair and waved at everyone before exiting the hospital room.

X

"_Jane?"_

_His eyes fluttered open. His neck was throbbing. His back was tense and his legs were cramped up. One hand was placed behind his head and the other was dangling over the side of his makeshift bed. He was staring at the attic ceiling, groaning as he rolled over in the uncomfortable bed._

"_Jane, you up here?"_

_Her voice was not angry nor irritated. It did not even seem stressed or panicked, as it did on a regular basis. It seemed... relaxed. Almost pleased._

_She must have found it._

_Her footsteps grew louder as she reached the top of the staircase. "Jane!" she called out once more, but he didn't answer her. He just smiled to himself._

_She stopped when she reached the doorway, sighing. "Are you deaf?"_

"_I'm sorry. I was... thinking."_

"_Yeah? What about?"_

_He shrugged, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He eyed the silver chain that dangled from the palm of her right hand. She followed his gaze and blushed. "Is this from you?" she asked him as she uncurled her fingers to reveal the beautiful emerald necklace he had left on her desk._

"_I don't know what you're talking about."_

"_Tell me the truth."_

_Jane chuckled, standing. He winced as he stretched his cramped legs. "You needed some cheering up."_

"_Why do you say that?"_

_He sighed. "Must you know every detail?" He nodded at the necklace in her small hand. "Like I have told you before, it looks lovely with your eyes."_

_Lisbon blushed again. "That is very sweet, Jane, but I can't accept it."_

"_Yes you can."_

"_I can, but I shouldn't."_

"_I want you to."_

_She smiled at him, looking down at the necklace again. "Thank you, Jane. It's beautiful."_

"_I'm glad you like it."_

"_I just wish you had given it to me, before everything happened."_

_He frowned. "What are you talking about?"_

"_I mean... what if I never get it?"_

"_Lisbon, what-"_

"_It's beautiful, Jane," she told him. Her voice was getting weaker, distant. She was growing pale. Jane was frozen. As much as he wanted to move, his legs wouldn't let him. His throat wouldn't open, wouldn't allow him to breathe._

"_It is really, really beautiful," Teresa whispered._

_Her fingers loosened their grip on the necklace and it fell to the floor. Lisbon's eyes flowed shut, her red lips parted, and she was falling._

_This time, he reacted. He lunged for her. "Please! NO!"_

He jerked awake with a gasp, hands trembling and breaths short. He had tossed and turned while he dreamt, and his sheets were now twisted and tangled around his legs and torso. He peeked over the side of the bed to see the comforter strung out across the floor. He must have kicked it off in his sleep.

Jane sat up, leaning his head back against the headboard and sighing.

He turned his gaze to the nightstand, where a small, white box sat next to the digital alarm clock. He reached over with shaky hands and picked it up, removing the top of the box and peering down at the emerald necklace that hung on a shiny silver chain.

A few weeks ago, he had decided that his hard-working boss needed something to cheer her up. After several days of deliberating and plotting and planning, he had decided to re-create the day he had given her the expensive emerald jewelry that he had bought with his casino winnings.

He had imagined how her face would light up when she saw it.

He pictured the way her cheeks would blush a brilliant rose color.

He waited too long. He was too late.

_I will just have to give it to her when she wakes, _he thought to himself, nodding and sliding down under the sheets again. "Because she will wake," he said aloud. "She will."

X

"Good morning, Mr. Jane," Caroline greeted him with a small smile as he walked into Lisbon's room. She was checking Lisbon's blood pressure and recording data on her clipboard.

He suppressed a groan. "Don't you nurses take shifts?"

She just rolled her eyes as she placed the earpieces to her stethoscope into her ears. "So grumpy," she murmured.

"How's she doing?" he asked, ignoring her last comment.

"Better," Caroline announced as she pressed the stethoscope to Lisbon's fragile heart. She smiled at him. "She's breathing."

He beamed before he could catch himself. "Yes, I heard."

She removed the earpieces from her ears and twisted in her chair to look at him. "You know, I'm sure she thinks about you just as much as you think about her," she offered, clearly trying to be helpful.

He shrugged. "She's asleep. She isn't thinking."

"Dreaming, I mean."

"If she's dreaming of anything, it's coffee."

"You underestimate yourself."

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "No, I think _you _just overestimate me."

"Perhaps."

Caroline rose from her chair, sighing sympathetically at the unconscious patient. She picked up her clipboard and brushed past Patrick as she left the room. Jane exhaled, relieved, and took Caroline's place in the chair next to Lisbon's bed. He glanced around him, confirming that there was no one in the room with him, and then he turned back to his boss. "Well, you have done what I've asked of you," he told her. "Thank you. For breathing, I mean."

No response. Of course there is no response.

"Everyone is so thrilled that you are breathing, Lisbon," he continued. "You should have seen Grace's face when the doctor gave us the news. I couldn't tell whether she was about to laugh or cry, and I don't think she could either." He grinned, remembering. He cleared his throat, glancing around cautiously again. _I miss you, _he wanted to say but didn't. He didn't say it because he was a coward, even if she couldn't hear him.

_She knows, _he decided.

The vibration of his phone made him jump, and he chuckled to himself. He fished the device from his pocket and flipped it open. "Grace."

"Hey, Jane," she chirped. Her attitude had become much more relaxed since Lisbon had begun breathing again. "We've got a homicide downtown. A pretty big one, too. Daughter of a Sac PD officer was kidnapped and killed a few days ago, and one of the officer's co-workers has been missing for four days."

"Sounds exciting."

"You're not coming?"

"Not today."

Grace sighed. "Jane. You can't keep missing work like this!"

"Call me if you need me." He hung up before she had a chance to argue with him. He glanced at the clock. It was only seven in the morning. He wondered when the Lisbon brothers would be here. They weren't exactly his biggest fans at the moment, James especially.

His stomach suddenly rumbled loudly, and he realized he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast yesterday. He stood from his chair, stretching the stiff muscles in his arms before making his way to the elevator and to the cafeteria floor.

X

_Her eyes fluttered open, and she threw an arm across them, groaning. She hadn't expected the bright sunlight to practically blind her as soon as she woke. She glanced around herself, confused. Where the hell was she?_

_A grassy meadow._

_What was she doing in a meadow?_

_She ran a hand through her hair and stopped briefly. Her hair was longer than she remembered. And her arms were weaker, not as muscular as she recalled. She was dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans, her plain, grey V-neck t-shirt that she hadn't seen since high school, and filthy, worn-out tennis shoes._

_Her track shoes from high school._

_She jumped up from the ground, looking around frantically. She spotted a stream near a patch of trees and she sprinted toward it. It seemed like forever before she actually made it there. She stopped at the bank of the stream, taking a deep breath, and then peeked over the edge into the water._

_Her reflection almost knocked her over._

_She was no longer in her thirties. She had softer, rounder features that were highlighted with pureness and innocence. Her hair _was _longer and her body was smaller and weaker._

_She was sixteen again._

"_Teresa!"_

_She whirled around at the sound of her name, her instincts kicking in. She clenched her fists, grinding her teeth together. Her gaze bounced among the trees, but there was no one._

"_Help me, Teresa!"_

_She whipped around again. "Who's there?" she demanded._

"_Teresa! Help me! Please!"_

_The voice was coming from downstream. She squinted hard, trying to make out a figure that was teetering over the steep edge of the bank on the other side of the stream. Arms were flailing about as if trying to balance the body to which the arms belonged to. The figure was about to fall into the water, which had suddenly sped up drastically._

_She gasped. "Tommy!" she screamed. She sprinted down the bank as fast as she could until she reached him, but he was on the other side. "Tommy, get back!" she yelled._

_His head was ducked down. She couldn't see his face._

"_Tommy!" she shouted over the noise of the water. "Get back!"_

_She was just about to shriek something else, but Tommy raised his head to meet her eyes. His face put a halt to her orders, because it wasn't Tommy at all._

"_Jane?" she screeched._

_He stumbled sideways, and the sunlight hit his hair so she could see the unmistakable blond curls._

"_Help me," he mouthed to her weakly. She did not know if he had spoken the words aloud, but if he did, the water drowned it out._

_She caught a glimpse of herself in the water again. She was no longer sixteen, but in her thirties._

_Jane lost his footing, and he began to fall._

"_No!" Before she knew what she was doing, she had launched herself from the bank of the stream and hit the icy cold water..._

Her eyes flew open, and she was relieved to see that she hadn't drowned.

Or... had she?

Why was she in the hospital?

Why did her head hurt so much?

What was going on?

She heard footsteps, and her gaze fell on the door in the corner of the small, white room. Someone appeared in the doorway, pausing the toss a wrapper of some sort into the garbage. He raised his head to look around the room, and his gaze stopped abruptly on her. His eyes widened, and it seemed like he had stopped breathing.

Even though she cleared her throat, her voice was still disturbingly raspy. "Jane?"

**Author's Note: **Yes, I do understand how mean I am. A delayed update _and _an awful cliffhanger? Well, I promise to make it up to you and try to speed up my update for the next chapter!


	4. Lies

**Author's Note: **First of all, I would like to apologize _again _for the cliffhanger I left in the last chapter. That was cruel, I know. But thank you for your encouraging reviews! They mean so much to me!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 4: **Lies

He couldn't move.

He was completely frozen.

His first thought was, _Am I dreaming? _Was he dreaming? Deep down, a part of him truly believed she would never wake up. As much as he wished she would, he hated getting his hopes up. Yet here she was, staring at him with the most innocent expression he had ever seen her wear.

His second thought was, _She looks so... weak. _Her skin was pale and her lips were a frightening shade of blue. The rosy tint that always highlighted her cheeks was gone. Her eyes had lost the shining emerald and looked almost grey. This was not the Lisbon he remembered.

His third thought was, _Say something, you idiot!_

"Lisbon," he breathed. "You're... awake."

She glanced dizzily around the room, blinking her eyes a few times. She stretched her arms out in front of her, inspecting the never-ending tubes that were attached to her. "What happened?" she asked him in a raspy voice.

A few moments passed before he finally responded. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head, and winced. "My head hurts," she noted.

_She doesn't remember? _How hard did she hit her head?

"Oh! Miss Lisbon!" came a squeaky voice behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and Caroline was smiling brightly at Teresa. "I was just coming in to check on you! Let me get your doctor."

"Water, please," Lisbon croaked in a quiet voice.

"What was that, honey?" Caroline took a step closer to her.

"She wants water," Jane snapped. He almost cringed at his tone, and softened his voice. "Could you get her some water, please?"

"Water! Of course!" Caroline exclaimed. "And I'll get your doctor." She turned and fled the room, and Jane shut the door behind her.

"Who is that?" Lisbon asked Jane.

Jane folded his arms across his chest. "That's your nurse. Her name is Caroline."

"Why am I not at work?" she demanded.

"Uh-"

"Where is the team? Why aren't _you _with them?"

"Lisbon, calm down."

"What happened to me? Why does my head hurt? Why can't I remember?" The machine next to her bed began beeping rapidly, indicating that her heart rate was speeding up. Jane lunged toward her, catching the hand on the arm that was not broken. Her eyes were staring into his, pleading, and her breathing had accelerated.

"Lisbon." He tried to make his voice calm and soothing, but his heart seemed to be beating faster than hers. "Please. Just calm down."

"Jane, tell me what's going on!"

He hadn't realized anyone had entered the room until he felt a pair of hands gripping his shoulders and gently pushing him aside. Jane looked over to see Lisbon's doctor patting her arm in an attempt to soothe her. "It's alright, Teresa," he told her softly. "You're going to be okay."

"What happened to me?" she demanded once again. "Who are you? Why am I in the hospital?" Her eyes flicked to Jane's again, then back to the doctor.

"My name is Dr. Ellis. You took a little fall, Teresa," he replied. Jane almost snorted. _A little fall. _Yeah, right. The doctor went on. "You have been unconscious for about a week and a half. You have several broken bones, and a severe concussion. Don't worry, though. You have improved significantly over these past few days, and you should be out of here in no time."

A few beats passed before Lisbon could absorb what the doctor was saying. "I fell?" she asked slowly.

Jane stared at her, incredulous. _You don't remember? _he wanted to scream. How could she forget something like this? Even if she _did _have a serious head injury, was it possible that an event that huge could just fall from her memory? Her desire to end her life, to jump?

"Yes," the doctor replied. Then, he looked at Jane. "May I speak with you in the hall for a moment?"

Jane nodded, throwing another dubious look at Lisbon before following Dr. Ellis into the hallway.

"Are you family?" Ellis asked Jane.

"Yes," he lied, assuming it would be easier this way.

"We are going to have a psychiatrist take a look at her," Dr. Ellis explained.

Jane raised his eyebrows. "W-why?" he stammered, though he knew why.

"It seems her memory has been tampered with. We will take different sorts of tests, but we just need to see if talking to someone will..." He searched for the right words. "Jog her memory," he finished.

"What, it's too difficult for you to do that yourself?" he retorted sarcastically. "_I _could talk to her and 'jog her memory.'"

"It is better this way, believe me."

Jane sighed. "Fine," he gave in, as if he really had a say in it. Normally, he would argue, but not with Lisbon on the line.

"In the meantime," Ellis went on. "It would be best if you didn't mention anything to Teresa about the suicide attempt. Avoid the topic entirely." Before Jane could argue, Ellis held up his finger as if to say, _wait a minute. _"_If _she does not remember anything that happened, we do not want to overwhelm her. Her memory _will _come back in time, I assure you."

Jane's jaw dropped. "So, we're just supposed to _lie to her_ and then drop the truth on her later?"

"Her memory will come back in time," Ellis repeated.

"I don't want to lie to her."

"Overwhelming her is not good, either." The doctor spoke slowly, maintaining his patience perfectly. "It could lead to a stroke or heart attack. I understand that keeping things from our loved ones is hard, but sometimes, to keep them safe, we just have to."

Jane sighed, leaning his back against the wall. The doctor had a point. "Alright."

Dr. Ellis smiled. "Excellent."

"When will the psychiatrist meet with her?"

"This afternoon," Ellis replied.

Jane nodded. "Thank you, doc."

Ellis shook Jane's hand before turning and walking down the hall.

Jane fished his phone from his jacket pocket and flipped it open, sighing again. He dialed Grace's number and held the phone to his ear. _Ring, ring..._

"Van Pelt," Grace answered.

"She's awake," Jane announced right off the bat.

Several moments passed for Grace uttered a baffled response. "Seriously?"

"Yes, but her memory has faded a bit," he explained. "A psychiatrist is meeting with her today. The doctor thinks it would be best if we didn't mention..." He paused. "...the jump."

"But she's okay?" Van Pelt screeched. "She's awake? She'll be okay?"

Jane had to smile. "I think so."

Grace let out a girlish squeal and his smile widened. "That is _great _news!" she exclaimed. "Listen, Jane. We're just wrapping up a few interviews with the victim's family and we will be over there as soon as we're done!"

"I'll let her know."

"See you then!" And the line went dead.

When Jane returned to Lisbon's room, she was sipping at the paper cup of water Caroline must have brought her already. She looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry I kind of... panicked."

He shrugged. "Understandable."

"I've calmed down a bit."

He sat down in the chair next to her bed. For a brief moment, he forgot all about how he was supposed to be angry with her for nearly taking herself from the world forever, but he couldn't help but notice that her color was slowly transforming back to normal, and the thought of her recovery was comforting to him. "That's good."

Her eyes dropped to her hands, which were folded in her lap. "Jane, the nurse told me that you weren't allowed to speak with me about the accident."

_Accident?_

It was no accident.

Did she honestly not remember wanting to take her own life, or was she just pretending in an attempt to avoid confrontation?

She would be receiving a confrontation no matter what. He would just wait until she was out of this place and she didn't have nurses and doctors watching her like a hawk.

"I respect that," she went on, though Jane knew this was a lie by the way her jaw tensed. "But... could you at least tell me _why _you can't talk about it?"

"They asked me not to. Plain and simple."

"It isn't simple at all."

He sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Lisbon. The doctors asked me not to say anything."

She snorted. "What, did you suddenly grow up in the last week and a half? Since when do you do what you're told?"

"Since discovering that doing what I'm told may keep _you _safe," he snapped. He snatched his jacket from the back of his chair, standing. He avoided her gaze, knowing her eyes would be filled with hurt and confusion. "I have to go, Lisbon." He turned on his heel and stalked toward the door, knowing that if he stayed, he wouldn't be able to help himself. He would confront her, possibly raise his voice a bit, and he knew it wouldn't be good for her. Not now.

"Jane. Wait!"

He stopped. "What?" he asked quietly but didn't turn.

"Are you coming back?" she asked him in a soft voice.

A guilty pang shot through his chest and he finally turned to face her. His prediction was correct. A painful look in her eyes. Chapped lips parted in a confused O shape. He had never witnessed her in such a vulnerable state. _Are you coming back? _Of course he was coming back. He shouldn't even be leaving in the first place...

He swallowed hard, slowly making his way back to his place next to Lisbon's hospital bed. He draped his jacket in its original place. He sat down in the chair, smiling softly at Lisbon for the first time since she woke up. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Lisbon's worried expression was traded in for a relieved smile. "Thank you, Jane."

**Author's Note: **Eh, kind of lame, I know. The next chapter will be better. I promise. In the meantime, I would love reviews.


	5. Revealed

**Author's Note: **Thank you for the reviews!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 5: **Revealed

After introducing himself, Lisbon's psychiatrist, Dr. Asher, took a seat in the chair next to her bed and flipped a few pages on his clipboard. After adjusting his glasses, the interrogations began. "Alright," he began with a smile. "Ready?"

Lisbon nodded, seeming somewhat uncertain. When she looked at Jane for reassurance, he gave her an encouraging half-smile. "I think so," she said.

Asher glanced down at his clipboard, and then back up to Lisbon. "Can you tell me what your full name is?"

"Teresa Hope Lisbon," she recited without missing a beat.

Jane, from his seat by the window, had to smile. _Hope. _He still couldn't get over how ridiculously perfect it was, especially for this kind of situation.

"Good," Asher praised. "Birthday?"

"October 14th."

"Year?"

"'76."

Asher jotted something down on his clipboard. Jane smirked, wondering what on Earth he could possibly be writing. _She remembers this. She remembers this, too. _He was tempted to ask, but then remembered Dr. Ellis' words after Jane had caused such a fuss. The doctors had been firm about not letting him into the room while Lisbon was being questioned, but after several minutes of arguing, and even Lisbon insisting he be in there for moral support, the doctors caved. _Listen, Mr. Jane, _Ellis had said. _Miss Lisbon does not need any distractions. This is a very important process, perhaps a bit tedious. If you are going to be in there you mustn't distract her._

Now, here he was. Not distracting her.

"Can you tell me the names of your siblings?" Asher asked Lisbon.

"Thomas, James, and Luke."

Asher smiled. "You are doing great, Teresa," he congratulated her. "Now, I have spoken with your brothers-"

Her green eyes lit up. "My brothers? Are they here?" Her excited gaze shifted to Jane. "Jane, are they here? Did they come visit me while I was asleep?"

"Of course," he replied. "Actually, I just got off the phone with Tommy about twenty minutes ago. They should be here any minute," he promised. "The team, too."

Teresa grinned. Jane smiled back, but it faded when he noticed the doctor glaring at him. "Sorry," he apologized, giving an indifferent shrug. "I thought she should know."

Lisbon bit back a smile.

"Dr. Ellis specifically ordered you _not _to distract her," Asher reminded Jane politely.

"Sorry," he said again, though he was not sorry at all.

Asher turned back to Lisbon. "Anyway, I have spoken with your brothers, and they have given me a few facts that I will use to quiz you about your past. Just to see how much you remember. Does that sound okay?"

"Sounds dull," she answered honestly. "But go ahead."

Jane stifled a chuckle.

"Can you tell me your parents' names?"

"David and Laura."

"Best friend in high school?"

"Jennifer White."

Asher asked these types of questions for what seemed like an eternity, and Jane began to discover things about Lisbon he never knew himself. Like, he had no idea that she used to dream of being a doctor up until her senior year of high school. He didn't know she had worked at a clothing boutique in high school, and he did not know that she jumped into the city pool to save a drowning child in the eighth grade.

"You are doing great, Teresa," Asher told her, smiling approvingly. "Just a few questions left, and I'll be all done, okay?"

She nodded stiffly, clearly bored. "Okay."

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Jane leaned forward, suddenly intrigued.

Lisbon's browed knitted together. "Uh, what do you mean?"

"I mean, not including these last few moments after you woke up, what do you remember?"

Her expression relaxed a bit. "Oh," she said softly, leaning against the pillow on her bed. She seemed to be replaying the memories in her mind. "It was a busy work day," she began. "It was stressful. Jane was misbehaving, as per usual." She threw him a look, followed by a small, teasing smile which he attempted to return. "I mean... everything seemed normal. I went home, parked my car in its usual spot. I went to my apartment, made myself some coffee." She looked at the doctor. "I always have coffee."

Asher nodded. "Interesting. Go on."

"Right," she replied. "I watched TV. I went to sleep." She looked away from the doctor. "Now that I think about it, I don't recall waking up."

"Miss Lisbon, I have to ask. Were you taking antidepressants?"

She blinked, staring confusedly at the doctor. She opened her mouth once, then closed it, like a fish. "Why would I take antidepressants?" Then, she threw her gaze to Jane. "Was I depressed? Did something happen?"

"You tell me," he retorted.

She flinched. "What are you-"

"How can you not remember?" he demanded, cutting her off. "I truly don't understand how you could just... forget something like this. Something so huge."

"Mr. Jane!" Asher scolded harshly. "Dr. Ellis instructed you-"

"I know what Ellis said!" he shouted as he jumped up from his seat. He looked at the weak, startled woman in the hospital bed and softened his voice slightly. "You really don't remember?" he hissed.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. "I don't remember, Jane. I'm sorry."

"Please leave, Mr. Jane," Asher ordered.

Jane ignored him. "You don't remember jumping?"

Lisbon's eyes widened. "What?"

Asher stood abruptly. "Mr. Jane, I've asked you once. I will not ask you again."

Again, Jane paid no attention to him, and it appeared Lisbon wasn't paying attention to him either. "What are you talking about, Jane?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"You tried to kill yourself," he told her flatly.

Her jaw dropped.

This time, Asher was not polite. "You have five seconds to leave this room _now _or I will have you escorted out. Leave, Mr. Jane. Now."

He threw his hands up in defeat, turning on his heel and walking swiftly from Lisbon's room without looking back to see her confused, panic-stricken face.

**Author's Note: **He wouldn't be Patrick Jane if he didn't break the rules. ;) Reviews would be lovely!


	6. Heartfelt Farewell

**Author's Note: **Loved the reviews. Thank you!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 6: **Heartfelt Farewell

Grace caught his arm as he was storming down the hall. "Can we see her?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, bitterly shaking his arm from her grasp. "But I just freaked out on her for the second time today."

"Why?" she demanded.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "Long week, I guess."

She sighed. "Jane..."

"I know, I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You're worried about her."

He dropped his hand to his side, lowering his eyes. "I told her."

"That you're worried about her?"

He shook his head. "That she jumped."

Grace's jaw dropped. "You _what?"_ she screeched, arms flying up involuntarily.

"I didn't mean to!" he claimed, shaking his head. "I was... I mean, the doctor was questioning her and I was answering some questions she was asking _me_. I got myself too worked up and..." He trailed off, hanging his head in shame, something he very rarely did.

Van Pelt clapped her hand to her forehead. "You need to learn to keep your mouth shut."

"I was hoping it would trigger her memory."

"Did it?"

He didn't respond. He just stared at the ground.

She groaned. "Awesome."

"I'm sure it isn't that big of a deal," he commented. "Honestly, what's the worst thing that could happen?"

"She could try again."

"Why would she do that if she can't remember why she tried in the first place?"

Grace huffed. "How the hell should I know, Jane? All I know is that there is a reason the doctors did not want her to know."

"It'll be fine," he assured her, though he was not positive himself. "Where are Cho and Rigsby?"

"Waiting room." She gestured down the hall. "The brothers are there, too."

"Oh, good. She wanted to see them."

"I'm going to try to see her. In the meantime, try not to do anything stupid. Again."

He rolled his eyes as she walked away. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered under his breath. He shoved his hands into his pockets and huffed, making his way to the end of the hall where the waiting room was located. Cho, Rigsby, and the Lisbon brothers were all scattered around the room. When they saw him, they all seemed to perk up.

"Any news?" Luke asked, hope glimmering in his green Lisbon-eyes.

"She's awake," Jane announced, though they all knew that. "She doesn't recall jumping, nor does she recall waking up the night of the incident."

"What do you mean?" James wondered as he carefully closed his laptop and set it aside.

Patrick took a deep breath. "I mean, the day of the incident, she remembers coming home from work, going through her nightly routine, and going to bed. She does not remember waking up. Ergo, she doesn't remember jumping."

Everyone exchanged a look.

"We probably shouldn't tell her then," Rigsby suggested.

Jane looked out the window to the street below.

"You already did, didn't you?" Cho accused in a flat tone.

"Kind of."

"Helpful. Thank you, Jane."

Jane plopped down into a chair next to Cho. "Yeah, I get it. It probably wasn't my place to just blurt it out like that," he reasoned. "But don't you think it's strange that she doesn't remember an event that big, that serious? Or don't you think she would at least remember why the hell she was motivated to... jump?" He nearly choked on the last word.

Cho flipped his novel shut, frowning at the team's irritating consultant. "She suffered _serious _head trauma, Jane. When something like that happens, you forget things. The mind blocks out painful memories." He paused, glaring at Jane accusingly. "It happened to you, remember?"

"Yes," Jane replied curtly. "And I finally got my memory back, but I needed something to trigger it." He jerked his thumb in the direction of Lisbon's room. "_She _needs something to trigger _her _memory. _Enter Jane_."

"How'd that go for you?" Rigsby asked rhetorically.

He rolled his eyes like an annoyed teenager. Again. "Look, she didn't bail on me when I lost my memory. I'm not going to bail on her. I am not going to give up until she remembers."

Tommy spoke up this time. "Really." It was not a question, but not necessarily a statement. "Then why did you just come storming out of her room? I am assuming you didn't bid her a polite farewell?"

"That's different," Patrick argued, though he knew very well that it wasn't different at all. Damn, he hated when he was wrong. "I am not bailing on her. I just lost my temper."

James opened his mouth, probably to say something that would counteract Jane's argument, but Grace came skidding into the waiting room with a gigantic grin on her face. "She wants to see you all!"

X

Anger. Annoyance. Sadness. Confusion. Irritation. These are the emotions that she had been feeling after Jane stormed out of her room without even a glance behind him at the mess he had just made with her heart. Though she would never confess, she despised it when he was angry with her. Whenever it happened, a terrifying feeling would rush through her veins. Even though she knew it was not likely, she was afraid she had lost his trust, and she would begin to panic. Though he never turned his back on her. Not once.

Now, she was not sure whether he would or not. What did he mean about her trying to kill herself? Was he joking? She didn't find it funny if he was. Or did she honestly attempt to jump to her death and she just didn't remember it?

"Teresa," Dr. Asher said in a soft voice after Jane stormed out. "I am terribly sorry about that."

She waved his apology away. "Was what he said true?" she demanded. "Did I really jump?" Before the doctor could respond, she added something else. "Please, don't try to lie to me. I've had enough of that in my life." She figured a bit of sympathy may get him to confess.

Evidently, it did. Asher sighed heavily, setting his clipboard down. "Yes, Teresa. What he said was true."

"Why would I do that?"

"We're not quite sure. That is what we are trying to figure out."

Her heart sunk. "Anything I can do to help?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, you can try to think of anything that may have been stressing you out."

She laughed humorlessly. "I am always stressed out. Always. I honestly don't see how I could have been more stressed."

"Maybe that was the problem."

Teresa shook her head. "No," she said. "You don't know me. I wouldn't do something like this." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't understand _how _I could do something like this. I have a team filled with wonderful agents and a family that I love more than anything in the world. I couldn't do that to them."

Asher gazed at her sympathetically. "Miss Lisbon." His voice was filled with doubt. "You left a note."

She stiffened in her bed, fist clenching. "I did?"

He nodded. "Mr. Jane has it."

"Oh," was all she could say.

"Not to worry," the doctor assured her. "We are going to get you the help that you need."

She was too exhausted to argue with him, too exhausted to tell him that she didn't need help, she just needed to go home. To get better so she could start working again. She was exhausted, so she just nodded. He excused himself and exited the room.

Teresa was pleased to see Van Pelt's friendly face walk through the door next. She smiled eagerly. "Hey, boss!"

Lisbon held her arms open and let the redheaded agent put her arms around her. "Hi, Van Pelt."

Grace backed away. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better." She smiled.

Van Pelt giggled nervously, examining the injuries that covered Lisbon's entire body. "Yes, I can see that."

Lisbon dropped her eyes, pretending to be fascinated with the designs on her hospital gown. "So, Jane is pretty angry, huh?"

"Can you blame him?"

Teresa winced, but suddenly realized that she really _couldn't _blame Jane. "Are _you _angry?"

"I was," she answered honestly. "I mean, I was worried. There was more anxiousness than anger. But now, I'm just glad you're here."

"I'm sorry," Lisbon whispered. She sighed. "I wish I knew why I did it, but I don't. I wish I had an explanation for all of you. But..." She trailed off, sighing and shaking her head.

"But you don't," Grace finished for her. "I know. It's okay."

Teresa couldn't think of anything to say, so she just bit her lip and nodded.

"Want me to get the rest of them? Everyone's here."

"Please." Teresa smiled graciously at Van Pelt. "Thank you, Grace."

Grace smiled back and turned to leave, pausing briefly in the doorway to look at her boss again. "Jane will come around," she insisted. "I mean, it's Jane. He never stays mad at _you_ for long." With that, she turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Lisbon with nothing but her thoughts.

She tried to think back as far as she could remember. She tried to think of anything that may have set her off. A horrible thought occurred to her. Had she been fired from her job and they just weren't mentioning it to her? That couldn't be possible. Her memory went all the way back to the night of the incident. She would have remembered something like being fired from her job. Even _if _she had been fired, she could not imagine feeling the need to end _everything. _She had been fired before, after Jane had killed Timothy Carter, and not once did a suicidal thought run through her mind.

Had she been so ridiculously stressed out that she had just decided it was time for the end? From what she could recall, she was no more stressed than she usually was at the time of the incident. Had _Jane _done something to set her off?

A thought suddenly came to her.

Jane. The note. What had it said? What had she written? She hoped she had attempted to make it meaningful. What in the world had she written? Perhaps it _wasn't _meaningful at all, and that was why Jane was so angry. Perhaps he believes he, and everyone else, deserved a heartfelt farewell, and he would be right.

"Hey, Reese!"

Her head snapped up, eyes darting to the doorway. Luke was hurrying in, grinning hugely. He had his arms opened wide. Clearly, it was his intention to throw them around her, but then he remembered her injuries and gently put one arm around her.

Lisbon grinned. "Hi, Luke."

Behind him, Tommy and James were lined up, smiling at her. They all had their turn to hug her gently. Even Rigsby and Cho gratefully gave her brief hugs. Grace stood at the end of the bed, smiling at everyone. But Jane was nowhere to be seen.

Lisbon turned to Cho. "Where is he?"

"He needed some fresh air," Cho explained. "He went to walk the perimeter of the hospital." He paused, lowering his voice. "He'll be back. I think he wanted to talk to you alone again."

Before she had a chance to respond, Dr. Ellis swept into the room, clipboard in hand, smiling at everyone. "Hello, everybody," he greeted them. "Mind if I speak to Teresa in private?"

_I mind, _Lisbon thought to herself. "It's okay," she said to the doctor. "They can stay."

"If you're sure." He looked at her uncertainly.

"I am." She attempted a smile.

"Alright." Rigsby offered Ellis his seat, which was next to Lisbon's bed, and the doctor gratefully accepted. "The blond gentleman, the one who is always here, is he your husband?"

She almost smiled at the words, _the one who is always here. _"No," she replied. "I'm not married."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes."

He jotted something down on his clipboard. "The thing is, Miss Lisbon, your injuries make it extremely difficult to move around by yourself, as you already know."

She _did _know this. She tried to make her way to the bathroom earlier. She insisted on going herself, waving away Caroline's attempts to simply push her wheelchair. It was not pleasant. "You will obviously be needing help at home, even just to move around," Ellis went on. "You will also need someone to drive you to and from physical therapy, your additional appointments and check-ups. You'll need someone to make grocery runs. You get the gist."

Teresa nodded slowly.

Ellis looked around the room awkwardly. "Do you have family that lives in the area?"

"No." She shook her head. "My brothers live out of town."

"But we can take care of you, Reese," Tommy insisted. "We can trade off weeks. We may have to make a few adjustments with work schedules, but I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a problem."

"No," Teresa said firmly. "Don't be silly. You all have your own lives to tend to. Besides, you live hours away. You have friends and family at home."

Grace looked at Ellis. "Can colleagues volunteer?"

"If Teresa is comfortable with the living situation, anyone can volunteer," Ellis explained. "It doesn't make a difference _who _is helping her, as long as _someone _is helping her."

"I volunteer," Grace spoke up.

"Boss, any of us would be happy to help," Rigsby said. "And I am sure that if Jane were here, he would be saying the same thing."

Lisbon took a deep breath. "Guys, you all have lives. I don't want them to stop for me."

"The CBI will understand," Grace offered. "You need _someone _to help you, boss. And I would be happy to do it. Honestly."

"It will be a lot of work."

"I understand that. And still, I will be happy to do it."

Teresa smiled at her. "Really?"

"Truly."

Lisbon looked from her doctor to Grace. "There you have it," she said to Ellis. Then, she turned to Van Pelt. "Thank you so much."

Grace smiled. "Absolutely."

**Author's Note: **Jane wasn't in this one as much. Sorry about that. Next chapter will be different.


	7. The Necklace

**Author's Note: **I tried to give you guys a faster update. I hope enjoy this chapter. A little humor, but more angst.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 7: **The Necklace

She was sleeping peacefully when he arrived to her room that evening. The team was gone. Back the office, he assumed. Lisbon's brothers were there, however. Tommy and Luke were snoring in their chairs. James, who was reading a novel of some sort, looked up when Jane entered the room.

"Look," Jane began right off the bat. "I know that I have a tendency to be..." He trailed off, thoughtfully searching for the right word.

"An ass?" James finished for him.

He smiled. "I suppose. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I am truly sorry for the way I treated you."

James shrugged it off. "Forget about it," he insisted. "Hell, it isn't like I was being generously civil either."

Jane extended a hand. "Truce?"

James shook his hand. "This is like one of those cheesy movies Teresa watches on TV."

Jane cringed. "They are quite awful, aren't they?"

"Extremely," James agreed, grinning.

The raspy voice came from behind. "They are wonderful stories that teach inspiring life lessons. So screw you both."

They turned. Teresa's eyes were opened, glaring at them.

James chuckled. "They are quite cheesy and a bit unrealistic."

She sarcastically batted her eyelashes at her brother. "And those bloody, gory horror movies you watch with your girlfriend aren't unrealistic?"

"You're with the CBI. You tell me."

She rolled her eyes.

"James, would you mind terribly if I had a moment alone with your sister?" Jane asked him politely.

"Not at all." James smiled at Teresa. "In fact, I was just about to head back to my hotel. Is that alright?"

"Yes, of course. It's been a long day." She glanced at the sleeping forms of her other two brothers. "Take them, too. You all need rest, and I mean _real _rest."

"Yes, ma'am." James gently woke Tommy and Luke, explaining that visiting hours were nearly over and it was time to go back to the hotel for the night. Jane had begun to notice that the three brothers were actually getting along better now that their sister was awake and okay.

The brothers said their goodbyes to Teresa and left, leaving Jane alone with her.

"You were gone for a long time," she commented. "Nearly all day. Did your walk really take that long?" There was an unmistakable accusing bit to her tone. The tone she used with suspects while she was interrogating them.

"I also had a few errands I needed to run," he explained. He dug around his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box, handing it over to her. "I got this for you a few weeks ago. I just never had the chance to give it to you."

A flicker of amusement crossed her face, but then she looked at him uncertainly. "Is this a trick?"

He shook his head.

Although she seemed doubtful, Lisbon lifted the top of the box with her free hand and had to stifle a mesmerized gasp. She looked up at him with that happy sparkle in her eye and he couldn't help but smile at her. That was all he had really wanted, that look in her eye.

"Jane," she breathed, holding the necklace in her hand. "It's... gorgeous."

"It's nothing," he insisted.

"Of course it is!" She grinned. "This is so wonderful. I... I can't accept it."

"Yes you can."

She shook her head. "I really shouldn't."

"The color looks lovely with your eyes," he told her, quoting himself from a few years ago. He winked.

She blushed. "I really shouldn't..." she repeated.

"Please, just accept it," he pleaded in a half-teasing tone.

She beamed. "Wow. Thank you so much, Jane. I absolutely love it."

"My pleasure," he replied sincerely, smiling.

"You said you got it a few weeks ago?"

"Yes."

She cocked her head to the side curiously. "What was the occasion?"

He chuckled to himself. _Ah, the million-dollar question. _"You know, there wasn't really an occasion," he confessed. "I was actually searching for a suspect with Rigsby one day. We found the suspect in a bar downtown, and next to the bar was this little jewelry shop." He pointed to the necklace. "I saw _that _in the window and it reminded me of the jewelry I gave you a while back. I thought it looked good on you. So I got you this." He shrugged sheepishly. "At the time, there was no occasion. But now, it's kind of like... a token."

She raised an eyebrow. "A token?"

He nodded. "Of my apology."

"Oh, Jane. Don't worry about it."

"I lost my temper, and I am very sorry about that."

"If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I mean-"

"It's okay," he said quickly before she could bring it up. "Let's not talk about it."

"Sounds good to me" She held the emerald necklace out to him. "Would you mind helping me put it on? It's kind of hard one-handed."

He walked to the side of her bed, taking the necklace from her and securing it around her neck. "Perfect."

She touched the jewel with her fingertips. "Thanks."

He smiled and nodded. "You're welcome." Jane looked around the room nervously." I wanted to ask you something."

Lisbon took a small bite of the applesauce that sat on the tray next to her bed. "Okay."

"I was thinking," he began, cursing himself for fidgeting. "Maybe I could stay with you for a while, just until you get back on your feet. Literally." He smiled.

"Oh." She set her cup of applesauce back onto the tray.

"Yeah. I mean, I could go grocery shopping for you and drive you to your appointments," Jane offered. "I could help with your laundry and cooking."

"And you could help me with my showers!" Lisbon went on, seeming unnaturally enthusiastic.

His eyes widened a bit and his throat caught. He hadn't exactly thought of that. "Uh-"

She laughed at his terrified expression. "Relax. Van Pelt already offered to stay with me." She gave him a grateful smile. "I just wanted to see you freak out a little bit. But thank you for the offer, Jane. That's very... thoughtful of you."

"Grace already offered?" he asked, surprised.

Lisbon nodded. "This morning."

"Oh," was all he said.

"But thank you," she said again. "It really means a lot."

"Don't mention it." He quickly changed the subject. "So, when are they letting you out of here?"

She sighed. "I think Ellis said something about tomorrow morning."

"That's great news."

"Yeah." Her face fell a bit as another thought came to her. "But my brothers leave tomorrow. That's kind of a bummer."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "What can you do? They do have lives."

"Mr. Jane?"

He turned toward the doorway and suppressed an irritated groan. Caroline placed her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jane, but visiting-"

"Visiting hours are over. I get it." He turned back to Lisbon. "I have to go now. Will you be okay?"

"Yes, I will be fine."

"I'll be back tomorrow," he promised.

The journey to the hospital parking lot took a good fifteen minutes, mostly because the entire facility was so huge but partly because he was so distracted he got lost a couple of times. When he finally reached the parking lot, his phone began to ring. He fished it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jane," Grace chirped. "I need a favor."

"Okay."

"I talked to Wainwright about taking care of Lisbon," she informed. "Of course, he understood completely and agreed we could work something out. But there is a meeting tomorrow morning, and every agent's attendance is mandatory."

"So you need me to take Lisbon home because I am not an agent," he finished.

"It would help so much," she gushed. "I know it's a huge favor to ask, but-"

"Grace, please." He chuckled. "Don't worry, I will take care of it."

"Thank you so much, Jane! I owe you one!"

"You owe me nothing, Grace," he said, climbing into his car. "I'm happy to help."

X

He hadn't thought of how difficult it would be to load Lisbon _and _her wheelchair into his tiny Citroen. He realized this as he was pushing the wheelchair through the parking lot. She was thinking the same thing, because she said, "How exactly are we going to approach this?"

"Let me worry about that."

The first thing Lisbon suggested was hobbling on one foot and throwing herself into the seat. He laughed and said, "Yeah, because _that _would end well."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do, in fact." He smirked. "You _are _going to have to hobble. Just a little, though, and I will be supporting you the entire time. I swear."

She nodded. "This ought to be fun."

"Hush. Now, you are going to have to trust me."

"Fine."

"Good." He smiled. "Lean forward."

To his surprise, she did as he said without an argument or even a smartass comment. He knelt beside her chair and wrapped on arm around her torso. "Okay, I'm going to help you out of the chair. Adjust yourself a little so you are facing away from the car door. Then, I am going to lower you in. Sound okay?"

"I guess."

"On the count of three."

Lisbon nodded. "One."

"Two."

"Three!" they said together. In one motion, Jane helped her from the chair, and she was now balancing on her one good foot. "Adjust yourself," he told her. Teresa shifted her foot so that she was facing him. Never letting her go, he slowly eased her into the passenger seat. When she winced, he stopped abruptly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she insisted.

Jane slid his arm to the back of her legs and carefully rotated her body so it was facing the windshield. "Is that okay?"

"Actually, yes," she replied, surprised. "I can't believe we pulled that off without killing me."

"Is that leg okay or do we need to prop it up with something? Because I might have-"

"Jane, I am fine. Thank you."

''Would you tell me if you weren't?"

"Yes."

He closed her door, folded the wheelchair and set it in the backseat. Then, he walked around to his side of the car and got in.

"Don't break the speed limit," Lisbon requested.

He scowled playfully in her direction. "You do know me, right?"

"Jane, please!"

"Well, okay." He smiled innocently. "Since you said please."

She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'm just kidding," he said as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "If it makes you feel better, I will go the speed limit."

Her eyelids opened in alarm. "Seriously?"

He nodded.

"Wow, Jane. I didn't realize I had that sort of effect on you," she teased. "I don't think I have ever come across anyone who could make _Patrick Jane _change his mind." She grinned.

He just smiled.

"What, no witty comeback?" she asked.

"Not today."

"Why is that?"

Jane shrugged nonchalantly.

Her smile faded and she turned her gaze to the window. "Okay then."

He detected the hint of annoyance in her tone. "Oh, so _now _you want a smartass comment from me?"

"I just want to know why you are treating me like this."

"Treating you like _what?"_ he demanded.

"I don't know. Differently."

"You want me to be a jackass? Because that is exactly the way I treated you."

"I just want things to go back to normal."

Jane pulled over to the side of the road and turned to her. "I don't," he said. "Because something about normality drove you to..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

He could feel her analyzing his facial expression. "Oh, I get it now," she whispered. "You blame yourself."

He sighed, resting his head on the back of the seat.

"Jane." She was still whispering. "You can't save everyone from everything."

"I could have saved you." He met her emerald eyes, which matched her necklace perfectly. Not that it was relevant to anything. "I could have listened to you more. I could have followed orders. Maybe you wouldn't have been so stressed out."

"Jane, I-"

"Even if it wasn't _my _actions that drove you to jump, something did," he interrupted her. "I should have noticed if something was bothering you. I should have tried to help. I am your best friend. It's my job to keep you safe."

"Wrong," she barked. "I am a cop. It's my job to keep _you _safe. I am not your responsibility." She touched his arm. "So please, Jane. Don't beat yourself up. I hate that!"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." He started up the car again. Then, he met her gaze. "I won't speed. I promise."

**Author's Note: **So, what do you think? I tried not to make it too cheesy, though it is always a bit of a challenge when Jane and Lisbon are arguing like this. I hope you liked the chapter, though, and I would LOVE to hear what you are thinking. So, review! :)


	8. The Look

**A/N: **I love your reviews. They just make my day so much brighter. Thank you for that. :)

**Disclaimer: **:( Nope.

**CHAPTER 8: **The Look

Jane stood behind Lisbon's wheelchair, glowering intensely at the latest setback they would be forced to face. He peeked around to see her expression. She, too, was perplexed. Her lips were pressed together and her head was tilted to the side as she stared at the staircase leading to the upstairs in her apartment. "You know," she finally said. "I can just stay down here on the couch and Van Pelt can bring my clothes down."

"How exactly are you going to get to the bathroom?" he asked.

She shrugged indifferently. "I don't think my neighbors would mind sharing. They only have one floor."

Jane scoffed. "Please." He was still a little bitter from their tender argument earlier, which they had both been pretending never happened. He bent down beside her chair and wrapped an arm around her small torso, just as he had done earlier that day, but Lisbon stopped him with a crazy look in her eyes.

"W-what do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"What does it look like?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "I'm carrying you."

"That is completely unnecessary," she argued. "I am perfectly comfortable sleeping on the couch down here."

"Lisbon, you can't sleep on that lumpy couch." He scowled at her sofa. "You have injuries from head to toe. You need a bed to sleep in." He tightened his grip around her.

"Jane, I will be fine," she insisted.

Before she could argue once more, he snuck the other arm underneath her upper legs, being very careful not to accidentally bump the cast on her lower half of her left leg. He scooped her up effortlessly as if she were a small child. She let out a started gasp, even though she had known what was coming, and frantically threw her good arm around his neck as a reflex. "Jane, put me down!"

He rolled his eyes. "I won't drop you." Suddenly, a troubling thought came to him. "Your ribs! Are they okay?" He had her folded up pretty tightly.

"They're fine. They don't hurt anymore. Just put me down!"

He ignored her request as he began to carefully climb the staircase. "What about your hips?"

She sighed, giving up on her protesting. "They're okay, too."

When he reached the top of the stairs, he looked down at her. "Which door is your room?"

"Second one on the left."

Her door was slightly cracked, so he nudged it with his foot and walked through the doorframe. He was very careful not to bump Lisbon into the wall. Her bedroom was unorganized, but not at all disastrous. Though the bed was unmade and there were a few pairs of shoes scattered around the carpet, it looked like she picked up after herself nicely. Typical Lisbon.

"Sorry about the mess," she apologized as if she were reading his mind.

"It isn't messy at all," he told her honestly.

She looked up at him, noticing that she was _still _awkwardly resting in his arms. "Um, you can put me down now."

He seemed to snap back to reality. "Right." He took a step toward her bed and gently set her down into it, placing a fluffy pillow beneath her leg to prop it up. "I'm going to get your wheelchair," he said. "Anything you need?"

"A glass of water, please." She smiled gently at him. "There's tea in the cupboard, if you'd like some."

After hauling the wheelchair upstairs and rolling it next to her bed, Jane went back down the stairs to retrieve her glass of water. Though he was tempted to fix himself a cup of tea, he passed up the opportunity and returned to Lisbon's side. When she saw the glass of water in his hands, she smiled. "Thank you." But then he set the small bottle of pills on her bedside table, and she groaned. "They make me dizzy," she complained.

"Good. That means they're working." He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. "Don't worry, you don't have to take them for another hour."

She sighed heavily and took a sip of her water.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he clapped his hands together. "Well, I bet you're exhausted," he commented. "I'll be downstairs if you need me." He turned to leave.

"No!" she gasped, startling him. Realizing what she had just done, she quickly rearranged her facial expression to a more relaxed state. "I mean, no, I probably won't need you. But you may need to dig around the couch cushions for the TV remote because I _always _have to do that." She attempted to appear calm and casual.

He couldn't contain the smile that crept across his lips. "Or I could stay with you. Would you like me to stay?"

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm just asking."

"No, you're accusing. It's different."

He chuckled, amused. "Lisbon, I'm not accusing you of anything," he reassured her. "You're vulnerable right now. I understand that. If you would like me to stay with you until Grace arrives, I'd be happy to."

She rolled her eyes. "You and your damn analyzing."

"Would you like me to stay?" he asked for the second time.

"Yes," she confessed.

He grinned. "Great." He dragged the chair that was in the corner of her bedroom next to her bed and took a seat. He folded his hands in his lap, glancing at Lisbon apologetically. "I'm not very good company."

Lisbon shrugged. "You're company."

"You don't like being alone all the time, do you?"

"Sometimes I do."

"But not always," he guessed.

She scowled at him. "Are you interrogating me _now_?"

He threw his hands up, as if to say, _I'm not armed. _"No, I am not interrogating you. It was a simple question."

"I answered it."

Jane scanned her facial expression, softening his own. "I didn't mean to offend you," he told her gently.

She sighed. "I know. Sorry."

"It's okay." He sat back in his chair, not sure what to say now.

"I don't," she said after a few more moments of silence.

"I'm sorry?"

Her bright green eyes looked into his. "You asked me if I like being alone all the time," she explained. "Sometimes it's nice. The quiet can be peaceful. It helps me relax a bit after a tough day at work." She looked away, staring at the wall. "But most of the time, I don't like the silence."

He leaned forward curiously. "Why not?"

"Because it reminds me of all the things I haven't done in my life."

He didn't ask what she meant by that because he knew exactly what she was talking about. She hadn't married, or raised a family. Jane had known all along that deep down inside, this bothered her, but he never expected her to admit it aloud.

"You can still do those things," he said. Even though she probably assumed he was only saying this to be supportive, he meant it. When she looked at him doubtfully, he went on. "It's true! Lisbon, you have _no _idea what kind of person you are, do you?"

"Yes, I do," she defended.

"Enlighten me."

She knitted her brows together, laughing humorlessly. "No thank you."

"I'm serious. If you weren't _you_, and I asked you what you thought of Teresa Lisbon, what would you tell me?"

"That's an odd thing to ask."

"Answer the question," he said firmly.

She pushed the hair out of her face, leaning her head back against the wall above her bed. "I would tell you..." she trailed off thoughtfully. "I would tell you that Teresa Lisbon is stubborn, and a bit high-strung. Oh, and that her patience needs serious work."

He pondered this. "I would have to agree with you."

She laughed.

Jane smiled, shaking his head. "You forgot a few things."

"Did I?" She brought her index finger to her chin, pretending to think hard. "Oh! I have trust issues."

He nodded. "True. Not what I was referring to, though."

"I give up."

He took a deep breath, hoping she couldn't _hear _his heart rate accelerating wildly. "You forgot about _caring_."

"Oh, please."

"It's true. If I had a dollar for every time I caught you looking at me with that classic, worried expression on your face, I would be a rich man."

She blushed. "I don't do that."

"You do, too." _Now _he was accusing. "The first time I noticed it was our very first Red John case together. Now, it's like a pattern." He began to count off of his fingers. "Anytime there is a child involved in a case, I get The Look. Anytime Red John is involved, I get The Look. And I get The Look whenever Kristina Frye's name comes up."

The pink on her cheeks transformed to a brilliant shade of red. She was speechless.

"Don't be embarrassed," he pleaded. "You care about me, Lisbon. Nothing wrong with that."

"I... you... I mean," she stammered. "You're my friend."

"That's what I meant," he said quickly.

She nodded, spacing off and lost in thought. "Am I really as translucent as you say I am?" she asked wistfully.

He smiled sympathetically. "Yes, my dear. You are. But in all honesty, I think it may be just _me_ that sees right through you," he said reassuringly. "I don't think you are completely readable to other people."

"Yes, because _no one _is as smart as you," she quipped sarcastically, grinning at him.

"Exactly." He laughed.

Just as she was about to say something else, they heard the front door slam downstairs and Grace's voice call out, "Boss? Jane?"

"We're upstairs," Jane shouted back, turning to Lisbon. "I should go now."

"Okay." As he stood to leave, she grasped the sleeve of his jacket desperately. "Jane," she croaked. "Do you think I will ever remember why all of this happened?"

The sudden question caught him off guard, and he just stood there and stared, unsure of what to say. Grace appeared in the doorway, and her friendly smile faltered as she saw Lisbon clinging to Jane. "S-sorry," Grace stuttered.

"You're fine, Grace." Jane smiled at her. "I was just leaving. You girls have a nice day." He gently shook Lisbon's hand away and left the apartment without answering her blunt question.

**A/N: **I know, it wasn't very long. I apologize for that. I did make an effort to add a little fluff. Did I succeed? Review (or PM, or both!) and let me know! :) Thanks for reading! Always appreciated.


	9. Spot On

**A/N: **Ah, yes. I _do _understand just how mean I am with the whole suspense thing. I always have been. I'm glad you guys are on the edge of your seats, that is what I live for. :) Anyway, thank you for the reviews.

**Disclaimer: **:(

**CHAPTER 9: **Spot-On

Now that Teresa was home and he had the ability to breathe again, Jane finally returned to work. It was an odd feeling, not having the women around as much. They had each become such essential pieces of his life, and not seeing them all day everyday was just strange.

Of course, he visited Lisbon every day and Grace would occasionally help out with a case but most of the time, she was tending to Lisbon all day and it just didn't feel the same. Cho was named the new _temporary _team leader, and an additional agent named Michael Taylor was temporarily added to their team. Everything was just so... different. So off.

One day, Agent Taylor received a phone call and announced to the team that a local teenager had been murdered. Jane sighed and Rigsby groaned. Everyone absolutely _despised _cases where kids were the victims. Not only was it devastatingly heartbreaking, but the suspects were almost always other kids. The team knew from experience that interrogating a couple of kids was like talking to a wall. They refused to give answers, and the only thing they really had to offer was smartass remarks.

The victim's name was Matthew Grammar. Fifteen years old, shot twice in the chest. He was discovered behind the local bowling alley by one of the workers, who heard the shots.

While Cho and Taylor went to question the boy's friends, Jane went with Rigsby to pay a visit to the grieving family.

The mother was, to say the least, an absolute wreck, barely audible as she answered Rigsby's hesitant questions. He had suggested they do this another time, but the poor woman insisted. _I want to get this over with, _she wailed. _I want the sick bastard that killed my boy to rot in jail forever. _

Uncomfortable with the situation, Jane excused himself and slipped from the living room, leaving Rigsby with the traumatized woman. Jane wandered down the hallway, looking at the pictures as he went. When he reached the kitchen, he noticed a young girl seated at the kitchen table, staring blankly out the window.

"Hello," Jane said.

She glanced up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Are you with the police?"

"I am," he answered.

"Are you going to find who did this to my brother?" she asked him.

Jane took a seat across from her at the table. She looked very much like the victim. Honey-colored hair and navy blue eyes. She looked to be ten or eleven years old. A pretty girl. "I am certainly going to try," he finally promised the little girl.

She nodded. "I don't understand why anyone would want to do this to Matt," she whispered. "He was such a good person."

"Neither do I." He paused. "I am very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." She stretched a tiny hand across the table. "I'm Peyton."

Jane shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Peyton. I'm Patrick."

"Is my mom still crying?" she asked.

"Yes." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "It is a very, very difficult thing. Losing a child, I mean."

"It's a difficult thing losing _anyone." _She sighed. "First Daddy. Now Matt."

A pang of remorse shot through his veins as he looked at the girl's heart-wrenching expression. "I'm sorry," he said again, because that was all he could think of to say.

She stood from the table. "I should get back to my mom."

Jane stood, too. "Right. And I should probably get back to my colleague."

As he predicted, the mother was still weeping, and Rigsby was more than ready to get out of here. "Mrs. Grammar, again, I am terribly sorry for your loss."

"Yes, my condolences," Jane chimed in.

The woman sniffed. "Thank you."

Rigsby stood from his place in a chair and just as he and Jane were about to leave, Mrs. Grammar spoke up again. "You're Teresa's colleagues?" she asked in a shaky, raspy voice.

The two men stiffened, surprised. "Yes," Rigsby replied.

"I haven't seen her since the day before she was discharged from the hospital. How is she doing?"

"She doing good," Rigsby informed her. "You know, considering."

"You know Lisbon?" Jane asked.

"She's been my good friend for a long time." Mrs. Grammar dabbed at her moist eyes. "She will be heartbroken when she finds out about..." And she burst into tears again.

Jane and Rigsby exchanged a glance before Jane hurriedly said, "Again, I'm deeply sorry for your loss." He looked at the little girl. "Bye, Peyton."

He turned swiftly and hurried out to his car.

X

He was in the habit of letting himself into her apartment, and if it was locked, he used the spare key that was hidden in one of the cracks of the brick wall. As soon as he reached her apartment building, he parked his car, sprinted up the steps leading to her front door, and let himself in.

Grace was seated on Lisbon's couch, flipping through a magazine. She looked up and smiled when Jane opened the door. "Hey."

"Hi, Grace. Is she sleeping?"

She shook her head. "Nope, I think she is just reading."

Jane hurried up the staircase, taking two steps at a time, and had to stop himself from just bursting into her bedroom unannounced. He knocked three times. "Lisbon?"

"Come in."

He entered. "Hi."

She immediately noticed the concerned expression on his face and used the hand railing he had installed for her to pull herself into a sitting position. "Jane, what's the matter?"

He furrowed his brows, slightly confused. "I... I guess I wanted to see if you were okay." Surely she must have heard about the poor boy. Matthew Grammar _had _to be all over the news, and she watched the news all the time.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" she asked in a slow, monotonous voice that could only mean she _hadn't _heard about the boy, her good friend's son.

Jane heard someone clear their throat behind him and he turned to see Grace standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she apologized. She held up her phone for them to see, which was clutched tightly in her hand. "Rigsby called. They need to take down a highly dangerous suspect and need an extra set of hands to do it, so..."

"Go ahead," Jane insisted. "They don't need me." He sat at the foot of Lisbon's bed.

"_Yes, _they do!" Lisbon argued. "Both of you, go. I will be okay!"

He ignored her. "Go, Grace. They need you."

The redheaded agent nodded and left Lisbon's apartment.

"Jane," Teresa said once Grace was gone. "What is going on? I want the truth."

"You mean, you haven't turned on the television lately?"

She didn't respond, but the perplexed look remained fixed on her face. She cautiously reached for her TV remote, but Jane stopped her by grasping her wrist. "No," he said firmly.

Immediately, he felt guilty, for the fear and worry she was feeling became evident in her eyes. "Jane," she croaked. "You are scaring me. Please tell me what's going on. Is it something to do with the latest case?"

He nodded solemnly, deciding to cut to the chase and get this over with. He opened his mouth to speak, but something choked him. Something dark, something he had _refused _to think about for the longest time. It was the memory of Lisbon's shattered expression the day they found Bosco and his team gunned down. The memory of the broken hope in her beautiful eyes as the paramedics attempted to revive Sam was almost unbearable to think about. Jane couldn't stand the thought of _him _bringing that look back to her face. Especially when she was so vulnerable already, with bruises and broken bones covering her petite body.

"Jane!" Lisbon seemed desperate now. "I don't care how awful it may be," she whispered. "Please. Tell me."

He took a deep breath, letting the words pour. "Lisbon, do you have a friend with the last name of Grammar?"

Lo and behold, there was the expression. Her face paled and the color seemed to drain from her eyes. "Kristen," she croaked. "Is she dead?"

He shook his head, dropping his eyes.

"One of the kids," she breathed, voice cracking helplessly.

He still didn't meet her eyes. He didn't even look up. He just scooted a bit closer to her and covered her hand with his. This was the kind of thing he rarely did with anyone else. He was man enough to admit that he wasn't necessarily an affectionate person. He didn't hand out free hugs to anyone who seemed to be having a bad day and frankly, crying women made him extremely uncomfortable. But lately, with the pretty green-eyed brunette before him, he felt the urge to get her to open up to him.

"Which kid, Jane?" Lisbon asked.

"Matthew." He finally met her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"How?" Her voice was barely above a strained whisper.

"Shot twice in the chest."

Though the mortified squeak that escaped her was small, it broke Jane's heart all the same. He could tell that she was unsuccessfully attempting to hold back the tears that had already begun to pool in her eyes. "Do you want me to go?" he asked her softly.

It was as if she couldn't move, couldn't even nod her head. She clearly didn't have the ability to construct a coherent sentence, and a muffled sound came from her throat. The kind of sound that was being strangled by a sob. It sounded something like, "M-hm."

Jane obliged, releasing her hand and standing up. He was just about to make his way for the door when she actually spoke up, with words. "Changed my mind." Her voice was raspy, the way someone's voice sounds when their throat is being constricted by emotion. "Stay. Please."

He turned. "You sure?"

"'Nless you want to go," she sniffled.

The truth was, he didn't want to go. He had know this would happen if he told her about the boy, but he couldn't stand the thought of her finding out through those reporters on the local news. He couldn't stand the thought of her finding out and having no one by her side.

Jane took a seat next to her again. She didn't look at him. She just stared at her bedroom wall. Her eyes were glistening, and Jane _swore _he actually heard his heart physically break.

"He was my godson," she told him. He was impressed by the way she kept her voice so calm. "Such a good kid," she murmured, and Jane wondered if she was talking to herself.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, swallowing hard. "I wish there was something I could do."

She shook her head. "You're already doing so much for me."

But deep down, Jane knew he should be doing more.

X

The news of the death of her godson threw her into shock, but she refused to cry. Not in Jane's presence. It isn't like he would mind if she cried in front of him. She knew he would probably be supportive, possibly compassionate. But she hated feeling weak. She always had. She had considered sending Jane away, so she was free to cry in private, and she almost _did _send him away. However, as soon as he got up to leave, the first thing she thought was, _No. I am so damn tired of being alone all the time._

Her bedroom was silent, yet unbearably loud. She knew that she wasn't obligated to say anything, that Jane would understand if she wanted to stay quiet. Instead, she asked him a question. A question that had never been properly answered. "Why do bad things happen to good people?"

As Lisbon said it, she caught him scanning her injuries for the briefest of moments, as if to say, _Not sure. Why don't you answer that? _Of course, it wasn't his intention to get caught as he made the silent accusation, but she was sure it was there.

The next thing he said surprised her. He answered the question that no one Lisbon knew had ever had the ability to answer. It wasn't the cliché, _I honestly don't know._

No. Instead, he answered, "Because good and evil don't go well together, and there is plenty of evil in this unforgiving world."

She couldn't help but smile at how spot-on he was.

**A/N: **I will admit that this was not one of my favorite chapters. I was trying to bring the team into the story a bit more, yet still have the chapter revolve around Jane and Lisbon. I know you are all DYING to find out what happened the night of Lisbon's "incident". I know that Jane and Lisbon are also dying to find out what happened. The truth will be coming out soon. I promise. :) In the meantime, I would LOVE reviews. Of course, when do I ever NOT love them? Thanks for reading! xo, Em.


	10. The Story

**A/N: **I'm sorry it's been a while. This chapter is very long, and I really wanted to portray the right kind of emotion within the words. Let me know if I succeeded! ;)

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 10: **The Story

Three long and agonizingly painful days after the murder of young Matthew Grammar, another killer was yanked from the shadows by Patrick Jane.

Matthew had a girlfriend named Annabelle. A nice, level-headed girl who got straight-A's and was always polite to anyone and everyone. The girl had an older ex-boyfriend named Jason, who was apparently still bitter about their break-up. One night, the ex-boyfriend in question followed Matt and his buddies to the bowling alley and ambushed "the guy who stole his true love" or something along those lines. Jason was high as a kite and drunk beyond belief. It was a wonder he could even recall what happened the night of the shooting.

Matt's funeral would be Lisbon's first time out of the house since arriving home from the hospital. Not exactly a joyful outing. She and Grace struggled with a black dress. Van Pelt was worried she may bump Lisbon's sling and hurt her. Lisbon kept insisting she was fine, that she couldn't even feel the pain in her arm anymore, yet Grace was still extremely cautious.

"Matt was such a good boy," Lisbon commented out of the blue a few minutes later while Grace helped her with her hair. "That Jason kid must have been really screwed up."

Grace pinched a piece of Teresa's raven-black locks and rolled it into the hot curling iron. "Rigsby told me that Jane had to be physically removed from the interrogation room." She almost smiled as she said this, as though she were proud.

Lisbon's jaw dropped. "What? Why?"

Grace released the curl and rolled another. "Apparently he was getting up in Jason's face, yelling and cussing at him." She shrugged. "Rigsby told me that he has _never _seen Jane like that. He must have been really worked up."

"Why would he do that?" Lisbon demanded.

Grace smirked. "Do you seriously need to ask that question?" When there was no response, she sighed and went on. "He knew how much the death of Matthew affected you, and upset you."

"Did Rigsby tell you that?"

"No, but come on, boss. It isn't exactly rocket science."

Lisbon sighed. There was complete silence for a few minutes while she watched the younger redheaded agent curl her hair for her. Suddenly, a thought came to Lisbon out of absolutely nowhere. "He thinks I'm going to try again, doesn't he?"

Grace said nothing. She just continued to style her boss' hair.

"Is _that _why he's been so damn worried about me lately?" Lisbon asked her.

"Boss, he's worried about you for the same reason we all are." She released the last curl and set the hot iron down. "We almost lost you. It upset all of us, and we were all completely confused and scared and worried. But if I'm being honest, it really did hit Jane the hardest." Grace applied a thin layer of hairspray to Lisbon's curls. "He fought with practically every nurse who tried to kick him out of your room after visiting hours. He literally _never _left your side the entire time you were asleep. He even ditched work every single day until you were awake and home."

Lisbon fell silent, stunned. Sure, she knew Jane had been worried. Not _that _worried.

"He even carried around your note everywhere he went," Grace went on.

"The note!" Lisbon exclaimed. "Asher _told _me I wrote a note! I keep forgetting to ask Jane about it! How could I forget about it?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure he still has it. He seriously carried it around at all times. Anytime somebody wanted to read it, he would snatch it back as soon as they were finished."

"Why?"

Grace shrugged. "I guess he wanted a small piece of you, something to hold onto, just in case you..." She trailed off, eyes falling to the floor again.

"In case I had died," Lisbon finished in a flat tone.

"Yes," Van Pelt confessed sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Lisbon turned her wheelchair around so she was facing Grace. "If I ask you something, will you promise to tell me the truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"Of course."

She took a deep breath. "Is there something that everyone isn't telling me?" Teresa asked. "I mean, is it really a huge mystery to everyone as to why I jumped, or are you all just telling me that so I won't be reminded of anything... atrocious?"

Grace took a seat at the edge of the bathtub, wringing her hands together. "It really is a mystery," she told her boss. "The night that it... happened, we were all gathered around the meeting table in the bullpen, eating closed-case pizza." She shrugged, smiling sadly. "You left for the night and never came back."

Lisbon glanced at the clock on the wall. They had about thirty minutes before Matt's funeral was expected to begin. "Will you tell me the story?" she asked quietly. "No one has ever told me what happened, what _really _happened, in full detail. I want to know."

Grace's eyes flickered to hers. "It's a pretty depressing story. Are you sure you want to hear it before a funeral?"

Teresa swallowed. "I think I can handle it."

Grace scanned her boss' facial expression with doubt. "It was just a regular day," she began slowly. "We had just closed a case. Cho brought in pizza for us all. Rigsby was making bad jokes. I was pretending to think they were funny. Cho was eating in silence, watching everyone. You and Jane were arguing about something irrelevant. Everything seemed so normal."

Lisbon decided against mentioning to Grace that she remembered everything about that night up until she went to sleep. She wanted to hear the story in Grace's perspective.

"You left for the night with a smile on your face," Grace went on. "I think you were happy with the way the day turned out. We caught a serial rapist."

"I _was _glad that he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone ever again." She recalled the extraordinary feeling of handcuffing the bastard.

Van Pelt smiled. "Right. We all were. Anyway, you seemed to be feeling great. You were smiling and laughing and making fun of Jane. That's why we all found it so strange when you didn't show up for work the next day. No phone call or text message or anything like that. Very unlike you."

Lisbon folded her hands anxiously, setting them in her lap.

Grace was fidgeting, too. She played with the lace of her pretty black dress without looking up from the floor. "We got a call first thing in the morning. The niece of a well-known politician was killed just outside of Malibu. You still hadn't' shown up and we were beginning to worry. Cho tried calling you several times. Your cell went straight to voicemail. He even tried the landline. You never answered."

Lisbon could feel her heart beating faster and faster. This was almost like the beginning of a horror story. The kind that made you sick with anticipation.

"That was when Jane told us to go, that he'd catch up with us. He was going to stop by your place to check on you." She paused, noticing Lisbon's pale expression. "Boss, are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Keep going," Lisbon barked.

"When you didn't come to the door, he broke in. He searched your entire apartment. Don't ask me how he found you, but he did. He found you at the bottom of that canyon, which was about a mile from your place. Your car was at your apartment building, so you must have walked. You walked a mile through those little woods behind your apartment building and-" Grace stopped in mid-sentence. "Boss, are you okay?"

Lisbon's throat had suddenly gone dry. "Jane found me?" she whispered. She had no idea. Even when Grace mentioned that it had been Jane who went to her apartment, it hadn't really clicked. Now she understood.

"Yes," Grace said gently. She dropped her eyes again. "He called me immediately. He said that you had a pulse, that you weren't dead yet, but I could tell he was panicked. His voice was cracking and he was screaming at me, demanding we hurry up and get back into town. We were already about an hour and a half outside of Sacramento. He had to handle the paramedics and the questioning all by himself."

"I had no idea that Jane was the one that found me." Now that she thought about it, it had never really occurred to her that she didn't know _who _found her.

"We should probably get going," Grace suggested, clearly eager to get away from this subject.

"Yeah," Teresa murmured as Grace wheeled her out of the bathroom. Grace didn't carry Lisbon down the stairs like Jane had. Instead, she went on one side of Lisbon and acted as a crutch for her. Then, Grace brought the wheelchair down the stairs, helped Lisbon into it, and rolled her down the ramp that led to the parking lot.

For a brief moment, Lisbon's mind had been steered away from the fact that she was absolutely _dreading _this funeral_. _How was she supposed to build up the strength to say goodbye to her beloved godson?

X

"It really was a lovely service," Jane commented quietly as he rolled Lisbon's wheelchair to Grace's car. Rigsby and Cho were catching Grace up on the latest case at Cho's car. Grace always did research at Lisbon's apartment on her laptop. She couldn't technically be out in the field all the time but she still liked to help out any way she could.

Lisbon nodded in agreement. "Yes, it was."

He stopped in front of Grace's car. "How are your appointments coming along?" he asked, changing the subject.

"They're pretty tedious, but I expected no less," she said as she allowed Jane to help her into the car. "So, I heard you almost threw a punch at that Jason kid."

He rolled his eyes as he buckled her in. "Is that what Grace told you?" He chuckled. "Nah, it was merely a... firm talking-to. That's all."

"Whatever you say." She briefly brushed away a dried tear that she realized she had failed to get rid of earlier, during the service.

Jane pretended not to notice as he smiled gently. "I was extremely unhappy," he explained slowly. "I was absolutely furious when I found out that all these lives were shattered simply because a jealous teenager had too much to drink." He sighed. "Jealously. That was the motive. Sick, right?"

The look on her face told him he had stepped over a line, that he'd said too much. On instinct, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face without thinking and nearly cringed at his blunt actions. "I'm sorry for your loss," he whispered. He dropped his hand to his side and began to walk away, back to his car, when she called him back.

He stopped, turning to face her.

"You never told me that it was _you _who found me."

The small smile that had been fixed on his face vanished altogether. His blood turned cold and his breaths began to shorten. He didn't respond to her accusation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked him.

"What difference would it make?" He glanced around himself. A group of Matthew's grieving friends strolled by, shoulders slumped. Kristen and Peyton walked hand-in-hand through the parking lot, faces red and blotchy. "You really want to do this here?"

"No, I don't," she admitted. "But I know that the only way to get you to talk is to force it out of you because for some strange reason, you still don't trust me. Regardless of what you say, Jane, I know you don't."

His jaw dropped involuntarily and he scoffed. "Are you trying to be _funny?" _he hissed as he moved toward her. "Is this some sort of demented test? Because you are one of the only human beings on this entire damn planet that I _do _trust."

"Then why won't you talk to me about what happened? Why do you always change the subject?"

"It was one of the darkest days of my entire life," he blurted. "It's difficult for me to even _think _about, Lisbon."

She fell silent, glancing down at the ground.

"I have to go," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away as the painful memories came flooding back to him.

X

_Cho hung up the phone. "We got one. Politician's nineteen-year-old niece was murdered just outside of Malibu. We'd better get moving."_

"_But Lisbon still isn't here," Grace pointed out, gnawing on her bottom lip nervously for the umpteenth time._

"_Try calling her again," Rigsby chimed in._

"_I'm telling you, it went straight to voicemail. She isn't picking up the landline either." He shrugged into his jacket. "Only one solution. Phone's dead and she overslept."_

"_Lisbon doesn't oversleep," Rigsby contradicted._

"_Yeah, or let her phone die!" Grace said. "I think we should do something._

"_You guys go," Jane suggested. "I'll go to Lisbon's place and drag her out of bed. Like Cho said, she must have overslept, or maybe her car isn't running or something."_

"_Great. Rigs, Van Pelt, you're with me. Let's go." Typical Cho, taking charge. He grabbed his firearm and tucked it into his holster, glancing at the other two agents. Then, he sighed. "Guys, I'm sure she's fine," he insisted, because he had to. "She can take care of herself. Right now, we need to get to Malibu. Let's go."_

_Grace and Wayne exchanged a glance but didn't argue with their colleague. Instead they grabbed their guns and cell phones and followed Cho to the parking garage._

_Jane wasn't far behind them. After rinsing his teacup and saucer, he made his way down to the parking garage. He unlocked his car and climbed in, jabbing the keys into the ignition and driving away from the CBI._

_He couldn't help but think that it _was _strange that Lisbon hadn't even called. What was even stranger was that her phone was off. Dead, he assumed. Very unlike Lisbon._

_He reached her apartment building and got out of the car without even bothering to lock it as he walked toward the staircase. He caught sight of her car in its usual spot. So she _was _here. He took two steps at a time and rapped three times on her door. "Lisbon!" he called through the door. "Playing hooky is no excuse for an uncharged cell phone."_

_He waited. No response._

That's odd, _he thought as he knocked three more times. "Lisbon, open up! I know you're in there."_

_Nothing._

_He crossed his arms, perplexed. "I'm coming in," he warned as tried the doorknob. He was surprised to find it unlocked. "Lisbon?" he called out as he swung the door open._

_No answer._

_He shut the door and looked around himself, finding that he was beginning to worry. "Lisbon, answer me!" he all but pleaded as he walked toward the staircase. He placed a hand on the railing and began to ascend the staircase. "Wakey, wakey!" he sang, chuckling a bit nervously. He was at the top of the stairs now. "Lisbon?"_

_There were three doors in the narrow hallway. Two on the left and one on the right. He pushed the one on the right open. Her bathroom. The light was off. No, she was not in here._

_The first door on the left was a storage closet. Obviously, she wasn't in there._

_There was one last door. It had to be her bedroom. He gripped the knob, pausing with anticipation. What if she wasn't in there? Where could she be? Or worse. What if she _wa_s_ _in there, and there was a reason why she wasn't answering her phone or responding to his shouts?_

_Jane twisted the knob and threw the door open._

_The bed was empty._

_That was when the panic really set in._

_He took a step inside her bedroom, peeking into her closet. Her suitcase was sitting on the top shelf. Her phone was lying on the nightstand. Dead._

_This didn't make sense. Her car was here. Her phone was here. Her suitcase and personal belongings were here._

_She was gone._

_He searched the apartment thoroughly for any clues of her whereabouts but found nothing useful._

_Then, he snatched her keys from the living room coffee table and checked her car. He found an old, empty paper Starbucks cup in the cup holder. That was it._

_He was getting desperate. He pounded on her neighbors' doors. None of them had seen Lisbon._

_Damn it!_

_Jane began pacing along the sidewalk. This didn't make sense. Where the hell could she possibly be?_

_Something caught his eyes as he paced and he glanced up._

_His heart dropped to his feet._

_Behind the apartment building, there was a large patch of trees. It didn't exactly classify as a forest, but the trees seemed to stretch for a good mile or so._

_And to Jane's horror, a huge flock of birds were circling the treetops._

"_No," he whispered. He forced his legs to move, forced them to move faster, and suddenly he was sprinting. He had never run so fast in his life. He never thought he _had_ the ability to run so fast. Yet here he was, flying over the soil and frantically shouting Lisbon's name._

_Tears stung his eyes but he refused to let them spill. For all he knew, those damned birds were circling a dead coyote, and Teresa had been picked up by a friend earlier this morning because she was having car troubles._

_Jane used the birds as a guide, trying to get to whatever it was they were preying upon._

_When he was directly below them he stopped, completely out of breath. He hunched over, placing his hands on his knees for support and breathing hard. He looked up at the birds, squinting as the sunlight blinded him. What the hell? He was directly below them, and there was nothing. Was there a rotting animal around perhaps? He had no idea what the birds were circling but to his relief, Lisbon was nowhere to be seen._

_His heart stopped._

_Nowhere to be seen..._

_He glowered at the ledge of a cliff as he inched toward it, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. _Please. No.

_He took a deep, ragged breath and peeked over the edge._

"_LISBON!"_

**A/N: **Sorry, that was kind of a cliffhanger (literally). Let me know what you think!


	11. Another Funeral

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 11: **Another Funeral

Lisbon leaned her head against the seat as Van Pelt drove them back to her apartment. Teresa let her eyes flutter shut, sighing. She _despised _it when Jane suddenly shut her out. She despised it when _anyone _shut her out. It made her feel weak, insecure. She hated feeling like this.

"Boss, are you alright?" Van Pelt asked, glancing briefly over to Lisbon. "You've been awfully quiet."

"My godson died," she replied flatly.

Grace blushed, ashamed. "I know, and I'm so sorry." She paused. "Did you and Jane get into a fight or something? Because when he was walking to his car, he looked pretty upset about something."

Lisbon shrugged, gazing out the window.

Van Pelt, smart girl she was, figured that this was her cue to drop the subject. "So, physical therapy seems to be working," she commented lightly without taking her eyes off the road.

Lisbon smiled, pleased to be away from the previous subject. "It really is," she confessed. "My hips are completely healed, and the pain in my head seems to be shrinking every day. Dr. Ellis said that my arm should be out of this sling this week, and I can graduate to a walking cast."

Grace beamed. "That's great!" she exclaimed excitedly. "That means you will be out of that wheelchair."

"Finally."

"That's wonderful, boss."

"Thank you." The smile faltered slightly as she glanced down at her lap.

Grace frowned. "What is it?"

"It's... killing me. Not remembering, I mean."

"I know."

"Even Asher is beginning to grow frustrated." Lisbon sighed. "He's tried everything. He's tried the cliché little trips down memory lane. He's tried having me 'retrace my steps.' He's even tried hypnosis. Jane tried hypnotizing me, too. That didn't work either."

"Maybe you shouldn't try to force the memories back to you," Grace suggested as she turned down Lisbon's street. "I mean, maybe the reason you're having such a hard time remembering is because you are trying too hard. Just relax, go with the flow, and it will come back to you." Grace. The optimist.

Teresa shook her head. "I really don't think that's it," she argued. "Remember Jane? I don't think he would have remembered anything if something hadn't triggered his memory."

"But you didn't lose years and years of _your _memory," Grace countered. "You only lost a few hours."

"_Exactly. _That is why it is so damn frustrating!"

Grace pulled her car into her usual parking spot next to the apartment complex, throwing the car into park and turning to her boss. "Okay. You lost me."

"I only lost a few hours of my memory. I know for a fact that before I lost it, I had no intention of committing suicide. That means that I must have made a very, _very _quick decision to jump, to end things, or..." Lisbon trailed off, unsure of what to say next. Or... _what? _What the hell happened that night, and why on Earth couldn't she remember?

"Or what, boss?" Grace asked.

"I have no idea."

"You think someone might have done this to you?" Her voice was flat, doubtful.

"Possibly," she murmured. "But then again, it's highly unlikely."

"How so?"

Lisbon shifted in her seat so she could face Van Pelt more directly. "Well, first, I left a note." That reminded her. She had forgotten to get the note from Jane. Again. "Second, I can't think of anyone who might want me dead. Sure, people hate cops, but most of the people who hate them are in jail. And three, even if there _was _someone who wanted me dead, why would they hike me a mile away from my home and shove me off that cliff? I mean, why wouldn't they gun me down in my own home or something quick and easy?"

"I really don't know, boss."

"You think I jumped, don't you?"

Grace looked down, embarrassed. "It _is_ the only logical explanation. Like you said, you _did _leave a note, and nobody would want you dead, Lisbon. Honestly."

Lisbon nodded thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry," Grace apologized. "I know that isn't what you wanted to hear..."

"No need to be sorry. I'm the one who brought it up. Just do me a favor, okay? Please don't mention any of this to the team. Jane especially."

"I promise." Grace smiled. "Alright, let's get you upstairs."

X

He plopped down onto his makeshift bed in his attic at the CBI, running his hands over his face in exasperation. It was hard not to think about that awful day when it was constantly running through your mind day and night.

He supposed he couldn't exactly blame her for bringing it up. She wasn't working, and she was cooped up in her apartment 24/7. It was probably tormenting her, not knowing the whole story. The truth was, _no one _knew the whole story. No one knew why she did it. _She _didn't even know why she did it.

Why the hell had she done it?

_He wasn't thinking clearly, and his very first instinct was to jump._

_He almost did, too. It took a few seconds to realize that it would do neither of them any good, and he slowly backed away from the ledge of the cliff. At this point, he was having trouble breathing, seeing, hearing. It was like his senses were temporarily taken away from him._

_As he backed away from the cliff, he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his back, landing in the grass. The impact was enough to bring him back to reality, he immediately got to his feet. He stumbled toward the ledge of the cliff again, sinking to his knees and crawling the rest of the way. He shut his eyes. _This isn't happening, _he thought. _When I open my eyes, I will be on the couch in the CBI. Lisbon will be standing over me, glaring at me the way she does. She is not at the bottom of that cliff.

_When he opened his eyes, he was not at the CBI. He was at the ledge of the cliff._

_And Lisbon was not standing over him. She was at the bottom of that cliff._

_The first thing he did was whip out his phone and call the paramedics. In a shaking voice, he reported his location and his situation. Once he hung up the phone, he scanned his surroundings, urgently searching for a place he could climb down. There was a spot about a quarter mile away that looked as if the cliff was not as steep or high. He sprinted to the spot as fast as he could._

_It took him less than five minutes to make it to the bottom of the cliff. As soon as his feet hit the bottom, he was running to her. Tears were streaming freely down his face but he brushed them away. His cell phone was ringing but he ignored it. Obstacles stood in his way but he dodged them. He was on autopilot. His mind was only with her._

_X_

Lisbon woke from her nap to the sound of Grace weeping.

"Grace?" she called out, rubbing her eyes and pulling herself up with the railing Jane had installed. She carefully eased herself into her wheelchair and wheeled herself out her bedroom door and to the top of the staircase, glancing over the banister. She could see Grace seated on the couch, head in her hands, shoulders shaking.

"Grace!" Lisbon exclaimed. "What's the matter?"

Grace looked up, eyes red and swollen. She stood from the couch, wiping at her eyes and walking to the bottom of the staircase. "My father just called," she blubbered. "My favorite aunt passed away earlier today."

"Oh, Grace," Lisbon murmured. "I am so sorry."

"Thank you." She swallowed. "Would you like help down?"

"Yes, please."

When Lisbon was settled onto the couch, she patted the spot next to her and Grace plopped down, sniffling. "I'm so sorry, Grace."

"Thank you."

"When is the funeral?"

"Next weekend."

"Where?"

Grace wiped at her eyes. "Boston. That's where my aunt and her family lived." She blew her nose with a tissue. "The rest of the family is flying to Boston on Wednesday, and the funeral is on Saturday. Kind of like a... family reunion. Sort of."

"You will probably need to book the airfare as soon as possible."

"Boss, I can't go."

"Of course you can."

"But you-"

"Me, nothing," Teresa argued. "This arm cast is supposed to come off this week, _and _I'll be out of the wheelchair." She smiled encouragingly. "Go. I can take care of myself."

"No way. I am not leaving you alone."

"Grace, I'll be fine."

Van Pelt shook her head stubbornly. "Jane will stay here."

Lisbon snorted. "No chance."

"He would be absolutely _thrilled _to do it. You know that."

"Grace, no."

"Lisbon, I am not leaving you here by yourself," Grace said firmly. "If you would rather have Cho or Rigsby here, that's fine. But I am not leaving you here by yourself."

"I'm not twelve. I can stay by myself."

"I would feel better if someone were here with you."

"If you are worried that I'm going to go back to that cliff-"

"I'm not," Grace cut her off. "Please. Just let Jane stay here. It will only be for a few days."

"A few days with Jane is like a year in hell."

Van Pelt smirked. "It really would make me feel better if someone were here. That way I wouldn't be worrying about you the entire time..."

"You don't need to worry about me! I'm not twelve," she reminded her, again.

"Why must you be so damn stubborn?" Grace pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket. "I'm calling Jane. No arguments. We've both had a bad enough day already."

Lisbon couldn't argue with that.

X

_He clung to her._

_He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into his arms and take her away from this rocky, terrible place, but he was afraid he might hurt her. Surely she must have several broken bones. The fall was a good thirty or forty feet. A small pool of blood had formed beneath her. He checked for a pulse. Thankfully, she still had one. "Stay with me, sweetheart," he whispered to her, over and over again. "Stay with me. Please."_

_What had she been doing out here? How had she fallen? Had she slipped, or tripped? Why had she been so close to the ledge?_

_The paramedics and rescue team arrived shortly after his tearful phone call and Teresa was up on the main ground in minutes. Jane watched them ease her onto a stretcher and haul her up to the top of the cliff, dazed. Officers tried to question him but he was so far gone. "I have to go with her," he had mumbled. "I need to go with her."_

"_You can follow the ambulance back to the hospital," one officer had told him._

_He shook his head. "No. I need to go _with _her." He looked at the officer. "It's what she would want. She wouldn't want to be alone." He started up the hill, the same spot he had used to climb down._

"_Sir, we still have questions. Sir!" the officer had called after him._

The shrill sound of his ringing cell phone jerked him from the painful memory as he sat alone in his CBI hideout. He glanced at the caller ID. Grace Van Pelt.

"Hello, Grace," he answered.

"Hi, Jane," she said. "Sorry to bother you."

"You're not bothering me," he insisted. "What can I do for you?"

"I just found out that I have this... family thing next week in Boston," Grace began. "I was wondering if you could stay with Lisbon for a few days and-" She was cut off by the sound of Lisbon's protests and Jane couldn't help but smile. Grace raised her voice to drown out Lisbon's. "And help her out with the cooking and stuff. She is certain that she can do everything on her own, but I would much rather have someone here. She will be out of the wheelchair and everything but just in case anything goes wrong-"

"I don't need a babysitter!" Lisbon barked.

Jane chuckled. "Sure, Grace. I can do that."

"I wish you the best of the luck," Grace muttered. "She is very stubborn."

**A/N: **This wasn't necessarily the most _exciting _chapter, nor was it one of my favorites. It was more of a... filler chapter. Nevertheless, I still would appreciate reviews! Predictions? Thought?


	12. Black & White

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay. I was having difficulties with my computer. I would like to thank all of you for last chapter's reviews!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Chapter 12: **Black & White

Teresa gently stretched her arm, smiling softly. It was her first day without a sling, and she was loving it. She was also without that damn wheelchair, which made her extremely happy. Now, all she had to put up with was this uncomfortable walking cast and the torturous curiosity constantly running through her mind.

She sat back in her kitchen chair and glanced at Grace's bags, which were sitting by the door. Today would be the day Van Pelt left for Boston. Lisbon closed her eyes and suppressed a groan. Five straight days with Patrick Jane. _Five_. How the hell was she supposed to survive this whole new kind of torture?

Despite their heated discussion at Matthew's funeral, Jane had still come to visit her every day. He seemed to have brushed off the incident and pretended as if everything were fine. Lisbon hadn't even worked up the nerve to ask him for the note, fearing she might throw him over the edge.

"Alright, boss," Grace's voice chirped from behind her, pulling her from her reverie. She turned around in the chair to see Grace with her car keys in hand. "I'm heading out. Jane should be here soon."

"Fantastic."

Van Pelt smiled. "It'll be fine," she insisted. When she noticed her boss' doubtful expression, her smile faltered. "He's just here to keep you company while you get back on your feet. Literally."

After a few days of arguing with Grace, it became clear to Lisbon that she had lost this particular battle, so there was really no point in picking a fight now. "I know," was all she said.

"Who knows?" Grace went on. "Maybe it will be nice having him here."

"Let's not get carried away."

Grace grinned and gave her boss a brief hug. "I'll see you in a few days." She pulled back, gathered up her bags, and left.

X

It wasn't long after Grace left when Jane arrived. When Lisbon answered the door, he was wearing a smile with a Starbucks cup in his hand. "For you," he announced, handing it to her.

She stepped aside to let him in. "Thank you." When she shut the door, she turned to him. "Regardless of what Grace says, I truly do not need a babysitter," she said, getting right to the point.

He smirked. "I know."

Lisbon blinked. She had expected some smartass comment and a long, detailed list of why he disagreed with her. "You do?"

Jane nodded. "Of course."

"Then why did you agree to this?"

He shrugged. "Grace asked me to. What kind of person would I be if I refused to take care of an injured colleague?" Catching a mistake, he quickly backtracked. "Sorry. Not _take care of._ I meant to say, keep company." He flashed a charming grin.

"So, what you're saying is, you agreed to stay with here for purely selfish reasons?"

His smile widened. "Exactly."

"Well, that makes me feel better," she replied in a teasing tone.

"I thought it might." He winked. "So, what would you like to do today? Go out in public and show off your newly-healed arm?"

"Absolutely." She grabbed her keys from the counter and tossed them to him. "Break the speed limit and I will have you slapped with a fine," she threatened.

"That's very intimidating. Where are we going?"

She shrugged. "I'm starving."

X

They ended up stopping at a cute little diner a few blocks from the local high school, sliding into a booth in the corner. Jane scanned the diner. Photos of Elvis Presley and other legends were all over the walls. The booths were red and shiny, and the jukebox was playing some Johnny Cash song.

"Interesting choice, Lisbon," he commented.

"My mother and I used to come to a diner just like this one in Chicago," she explained, smiling. "We sat in the same booth every time, and she used to gawk over a picture of James Dean that hung right above our table."

Jane fell quiet, glancing out the window with a small smile. It was the most personal thing she had ever mentioned about her past, and it caught him slightly off guard.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Those damned pills make me act funny."

"Don't apologize!" he said quickly. "It's always refreshing to hear about your past, Lisbon." He took a sip of his water, smiling at her over the rim of his glass. "You don't speak of it often."

She smirked, picking up a menu. "Look who's talking."

He dropped his eyes. He couldn't argue with that.

A teenage waitress stumbled toward their table and flashed each of them a grin. "Hello," she said as she pushed a strand of wavy blond hair behind her ear. "I'm Maddie, and I'll be your server today. Anything I can get you to drink?"

"Coffee, please," Lisbon requested.

The girl looked at Jane.

"Water's just fine for me, thank you," he said.

With another smile, the waitress turned and went behind the counter to fetch their drinks.

"So," Jane said. "What's on the agenda for the next few days?"

"Physical therapy," she replied in a flat tone without looking up from her menu.

"What else?"

Her eyes flicked to his. "I didn't have plans to go sight-seeing, if that's what you mean."

"What did you and Grace do? Just sit in separate rooms in your apartment?"

"No," she replied. "Sometimes we would play board games, or watch movies, or work on a suspect's background check." Lisbon shrugged, taking a drink of the steaming cup of coffee the waitress had just set in front of her. "But we didn't leave the apartment much. The wheelchair made it somewhat difficult."

He nodded thoughtfully, sipping his water again. "Maybe we will have to stop by the video store on the way home."

"And the grocery store," she added. When he gave her a strange look, she explained, "I have no food in the apartment."

"Sounds good. So, what are you ordering?"

X

As she was wandering through the thriller genre aisle of the video store, she caught sight of blond curls out of the corner of her eye. When she turned, she burst out laughing. Jane was desperately trying to hold onto a huge stack of DVD's. There were at least fifteen in his arms.

"I already hit this aisle," he told her, smug.

"No kidding," she said sarcastically. "Why do you have so many?"

"Why don't _you _have any?" he retorted with a goofy grin.

She rolled her eyes. "Jane, we don't need a thousand movies."

"Sure we do. It'll be fun."

Lisbon sighed. "Fine. Go for it. I'll be in the car."

She turned and headed for the door, taking one last glance behind her to see if he was joking. Evidently, he wasn't. He placed all of the movies onto the counter and smiled at the stunned clerk. She turned back around and laughed, fearing what this week would bring her.

X

It happened that first night.

They had just finished cleaning the dishes after dinner. Jane had insisted they watch one of the _seventeen _movies he had picked out at the video store. Lisbon had claimed to be tired, but he gave her that frustrating look with the irresistible puppy dog eyes, and she reluctantly agreed. He had chosen a suspenseful thriller, and was now in the process of popping popcorn.

"I'm going to change," she told him. When he gave her a look, she added, "I'll be back."

It had taken her a little while to climb the staircase. The cast on her leg made it extremely difficult, but she managed. She hobbled to her bedroom and fished a pair of her favorite sweats from her dresser. Once she finally had them on, she made her way toward her nightstand to fetch a hair tie. On her way, her walking boot caught on the corner of her bed and suddenly, she was falling. She let out a screech as her forehead slammed into the corner of her nightstand with a sickening _crack_.

She lay flat on her back and let her eyes flutter closed. She felt blood ooze from her new wound and she moaned.

"Lisbon? Lisbon!" came Jane's panic-stricken voice.

Her eyes snapped open and the pain temporarily subsided. She pushed herself up to her elbow. Her vision flashed from color to black and white as déjà vu overcame her. _Miss Lisbon? Are you there?_

_Lisbon? Lisbon!_

_Jane! _she had shrieked.

Jane hurried across her bedroom and dropped to his knees next to her. She reached out and grasped his forearm tightly. "Jane, are you okay?" she demanded.

He raised a brow. "Me? What about you? What happened?"

She blinked, and then touched the sore spot on her head as she remembered. When she brought her hand down, blood covered her fingertips. "Oh," she breathed.

"What happened?" he repeated.

"I fell."

Jane slid an arm around her and took one of her hands in his, gently helping her to her feet. "Are you dizzy?"

"No."

"Can you walk?"

"Yes."

He kept one arm behind her back anyway, just in case. "Okay, let's get you cleaned up."


	13. The Second Time Around

**A/N: **I appreciate each and every review I receive. They mean so much to me! Thank you!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Chapter 13: **The Second Time Around

She tried not to wince when Jane applied a cool washcloth to her forehead, but he wasn't fooled. "Sorry," he apologized in a soft tone. She was seated on the bathroom counter with a bleeding forehead and a far-off look in her eye. He chuckled. "You know, this may be part of the reason Van Pelt didn't want to leave you alone," he teased.

She scowled, clearly not amused.

"It was a joke," he claimed.

"I know."

He sighed, dabbing the cloth on her wound again. He examined it carefully, debating on whether or not he should take her to the hospital to get stitches. "So, where are you?"

That caught her attention. Her eyes flicked to his and she rotated her head to the side. "What do you mean? I'm here."

"Where are you, really?"

She swallowed, dropping her eyes again and shrugging. "Honestly, I have no idea."

He set the washcloth down and scanned her expression. She seemed to be telling the truth. She was confused. Lost. _Scared? _"What's the matter, Lisbon?"

She bit her lip and brought a hand to her face, sighing in exasperation. "I don't know, Jane," she whimpered in a very un-Lisbon-like tone of voice. "I don't know anything anymore." She removed her hand slowly and looked him directly in the eyes. "I wasn't going to tell you," she whispered. "But right now, I don't think I have a choice."

"I don't understand," he confessed.

"I have been thinking about something lately," she began slowly. "I've shared my thoughts with Grace, who seems to disagree with me. I wasn't going to tell you, but I think you have the right to know." She leaned her head back against the mirror and shut her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again and straightened up. "Jane, I don't think that I did it."

"Did what?"

"I don't think that I jumped."

He flinched, taking a step back. "What are you talking about?"

"I think someone did it to me," she said.

"Who would do that to you, Lisbon?"

She dropped her head into her hands. He reached out and wrapped his hands around her wrists, gently removing them from her face. "Please look at me. I'm trying to understand. You think that someone attempted to _murder you_?"

Lisbon didn't say anything.

He sucked in a deep breath. "Who would do that?" he asked again.

"I don't know! Obviously someone who wanted me dead."

"No one would ever want you dead."

She huffed, hopping down from the counter. "Just because you don't know everything about me doesn't mean I don't have enemies of my own. You aren't the only one chasing demons." She turned and stormed out of the bathroom.

He was right behind her. "Enlighten me. Who would want to kill you, Lisbon? And in such a dramatic way?"

She didn't answer.

Jane reached into his pocket and clutched her suicide note in his hand. He grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around, placing the note in her hand. "Is that your handwriting?"

He watched her hesitate before she unfolded the note. He watched her eyes scan it. He watched her reaction. A thousand emotions ran wild through her green eyes. She pressed her lips together, glancing up to Jane shamefully.

"What?" he asked cautiously.

She handed it back to him. "I wrote it."

He looked down. "I know."

Her eyes misted over and she turned away, refusing to let him see her cry. "You know what; I think I am going to take a rain check on movie night."

He nodded. "I understand."

She started for her bedroom door, stopped, and turned around again. "That doesn't mean anything."

"What?"

"That it's in my handwriting," she offered, wiping at her eyes. "Someone could have forged it."

Jane was quiet. He didn't know what to do. What he _could _do. He wanted so badly to believe Lisbon hadn't wanted her life to end, but he hated the idea of someone trying to kill her. "How do we figure this out?" he finally asked her. "Tell me how to help, and I will."

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She turned and smacked the wall in frustration. "Agh!" she screamed. She backed up against the wall and slid to the ground. "Why did this have to happen to me? Why can't I remember _anything?_"

Jane sat down next to her and leaned against the wall. "You really believe that someone else did it to you?"

"Yes," she said automatically, turning to look at him. "What I don't understand is how that couldn't have crossed your mind."

"Oh, it did," he told her. "I went through every possible scenario. After a while, I became too busy being terrified that you weren't going to wake up." He paused, sucking in a breath. "Then you did, and I was _still _too busy worrying about you." He looked over to her face. She was already watching him, lips set in a hard line. Jane touched her arm. "If somebody did this to you," he whispered. "We'll find who did it."

She swallowed. "Really?"

"Yes," he promised. "I swear."

She looked to the ground, shutting her eyes. "God, I wish I could remember."

Jane hesitated before sliding his hand down to hers. "Me too."

X

_The first thing she thought when her eyes opened was, "What the hell am I doing in this meadow again?"_

_She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She stretched her arm out and examined her hand and fingertips. She glanced down at her clothes, crinkling her eyebrows. This time, she wasn't wearing her clothes from high school. She was dressed in her everyday work clothes, the clothes she wore to the CBI. T-shirt, belt, jeans, jacket. And her Lisbon Loafers._

_She stood up and brushed herself off. She waited, listening, until she could hear the sound of the stream. As she began her journey toward it, she heard someone call out her name._

_She started running, sprinting, as fast as her body would let her. She halted at the edge of the river, scanning the other side. She knew what happened next._

"_Lisbon?"_

_Jane was in the water, struggling against the current as it sucked him downstream. His blond curls were matted down and he had a crazy look in his eyes. "Lisbon!"_

"_Jane!" she shrieked, stepping toward the bed of the river and preparing to launch herself into the water._

"_No!" he cried. "Don't!"_

_It was too late. She had already jumped. She hit the water, letting out a small cry underwater as the temperature disagreed with her body heat. She surfaced, gasping for air and coughing. She looked around herself, fighting the current. "Jane, where are you?" she shouted._

"_Lisbon!"_

_She whipped around, kicking against the strong current. Jane was fine. He was on shore, running along the side of the river and shouting her name, motioning for her to come to the riverbed. "Come on, hurry!" he yelled. "Hurry up, or it will be too late!"_

"_What are you-"_

_She didn't finish. The current pulled her under, and she was drowning._

Someone shook her awake, saying her name over and over again. "Lisbon, it's okay. Lisbon, wake up. Lisbon!"

Her eyes opened in terror. Jane was standing over her, a hand on each of her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She swallowed but didn't answer.

"You were saying my name," he said. "I think you were having a bad dream."

Lisbon nodded, sitting up. "I didn't do it," she whispered.

Jane released her, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she replied confidently. "I'm positive. I couldn't have done something like this. I could _never _do it." She looked down at her intertwined hands. "Don't ask me who would want me dead because I'm not sure. All I know is I didn't do it." Her eyes flicked to his again. "I truly don't believe I could have done it."

It was silent for a long while. Jane stared at the wall, avoiding Lisbon's eyes. She began to panic. Did he not believe her? Did he not _want _to believe her? Why wouldn't he believe her? Did he honestly believe she would want to do something like this?

After the torturous silence, he finally said, "I believe you." He looked into her eyes again. They looked so sincere that it made Lisbon choke up a little. "We're going to find who did this to you."

She leaned her head back against the wall and relaxed her shoulders, offering a very small smile. "Thank you," she whispered.

**A/N: **Next chapter, they get to work! Is Lisbon right? Did someone really do it to her? Or did she do it to herself? Review, and let me know what you think!


	14. Terms of Endearment

**A/N: **Thank you for your reviews! I can't say it enough. They mean so much to me!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 14:** Terms of Endearment

She tossed her body to the other side of the bed for what seemed like the thousandth time. She groaned, staring at the ceiling, wide awake. Lisbon pushed herself up to her elbow and craned her neck to look at the digital clock. "You're kidding me," she whispered to herself, huffing. 2:37 in the morning. This could be put off no longer.

She threw the covers aside and got out of bed. She grabbed the pair of jeans that were lying in the middle of her floor and changed out of her sweatpants and into the jeans. She walked over to her closet and plucked her favorite sweatshirt from it, pulling it over her head. She was just putting her shoe on her good foot when she stopped, thinking of Jane, asleep on the couch downstairs. Would she be able to sneak past him? Sometimes he was a light sleeper, and sometimes he wasn't.

She grabbed her cell phone and searched for a flashlight in the mess that was her closet. She should really get around to cleaning this out one of these days. She found the flashlight in the back of her closet and she snatched it up, flicking it on to make sure it worked. She flicked the light off and quietly crept down her apartment stairs, holding her breath and watching Jane's sleeping form the entire way down. His chest rose and fell, and one hand was hanging over the edge of the couch. Her heart sank as she looked over to the front door. There was no way she was getting out of here without Jane catching her. She bit the inside of her cheek and continued to creep past him, willing to take her chances.

When she reached the front door, she glanced over her shoulder, shocked to see that he was still sleeping. Lisbon rested her fingers on the lock of the door, squeezing her eyes shut and turning it the other way. When she opened them, she looked back at Jane again. He still hadn't woken.

"My lucky day," she breathed quietly, slowly opening the door. She never took her eyes off of Jane as she slipped through the door and gently pulled it shut, being as silent as she could possibly manage. She eased herself down the steps that led to the parking lot, never removing her hand from the railing. When she reached the pavement, she folded her arms across her chest and began her journey to the canyon.

X

His eyes snapped open after another one of his merciless Red John nightmares. His heart was pounding and his breathing had accelerated. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked around himself, confused. He suddenly remembered he was on Lisbon's couch and relaxed a bit, sighing. He glanced over to the ticking clock on the wall, which was dimly lit by the moonlight flooding through the living room window. It was quarter after three in the morning. He rubbed his eyes and swung his legs over the end of the couch, getting to his feet. He yawned as he sauntered over to the staircase and ascended the stairs. He was just making his way to the bathroom when he noticed that Lisbon's door was open.

He peeked inside, making sure she was getting a good night's rest, and froze. Her bed was empty. He stepped inside the room and glanced around, flicking on the light. "Lisbon?" he whispered, feeling silly. Where, and why, would she be hiding? He scrunched his brows together, backing out of the room and walking to the bathroom. The door was open, the light was off, and Lisbon was nowhere to be seen.

Déjà vu.

Dread flooded through him. _No, _he thought, turning and flying down the stairs. He snatched up his shoes and sprinted out the front door.

X

It took her a good forty minutes to trek through the pitch-black woods. Not only did the lack of light make it extremely difficult to find her way to the canyon, but that damn walking boot also made it almost frustratingly impossible. She had to take a break every ten minutes or so to rest her leg. When she kept going, the only light that guided her was the moonlight.

When she finally reached the cliff, she stopped at the edge of the woods, staring at the edge of the cliff. _This is it, _she thought to herself. _This is where it all happened._

She took a deep breath and slowly moved toward the ledge. Her hands shook slightly and her heart pounded in her ears. She looked around, hoping something might seem familiar to her, that something might trigger her memory. So far, nothing. She took another step toward the ledge, held her breath, and peered over the edge.

She could barely see the bottom due to the darkness, but she could make out a bit of the sharp, jagged rocks and shuddered. Had she hit those? Was this the place it had happened? How the hell had she managed to survive that?

Lisbon stared a bit more, scanning the edge of the bottom of the cliff, concentrating.

Nothing seemed familiar.

She remembered nothing.

Tears welled in her eyes and she sank to the grass, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head between them. She felt her shoulders start to shake and she cursed herself for being so ridiculous, so childish and disappointed. What had she honestly expected? That the sight of the canyon would help her remember everything?

"Lisbon!" she heard behind her, and she jumped, whipping around.

Jane was emerging from the trees in a sprint, a crazy look in his eyes. "What are you doing?" he shouted.

She slammed her fist into the soil and let out an exasperated shriek. "I hate this!" she screeched. "I hate not knowing!" Tears streamed freely down her face as Jane fell to his knees before her. "I came here because… I guess I thought it would help me remember," she blubbered. "It didn't! I don't recall _anything, _and I'm so damn sick of this!"

Jane didn't say anything. He simply stared at her, jaw clenched.

"I'm sorry, Jane," she sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut and cursing herself, again, for being so weak in front of him. "I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I'm sorry I can't remember, can't give you answers." She dropped her face into her hands.

The next thing Lisbon knew, his warm hands were around her petite wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. She tried to fight back, to pull away, but she was too weak. He pulled her to his chest and rested his chin on the crown of her head. She relaxed into him as the tears continued to fall. Lisbon felt his arms tighten around her, as if he were determined to keep her there forever and never let her go. "Lisbon," he murmured as his hand squeezed her shoulder, pulling her impossibly closer. "You never let me down."

She moaned in disagreement.

"No, really," he said softly. "I don't need answers." Reluctantly, he gently brought her away from his chest so he could look into her red, swollen eyes. He brushed a curl away from her moist face and tucked it behind her ear. "I just need you to be okay."

"I _am _okay," she whimpered.

He chuckled without humor. "Sweetheart, you're not."

Lisbon forced herself not to flinch at the newest term of endearment he had given her.

"I promise you," Jane said, looking into her eyes. "I will do whatever it takes to find out what happened that night."

She tried to swallow the huge lump in her throat and gave a small nod, leaning into his chest again and letting her eyes close. She would have fallen asleep there, like that, but his lips came down to her ear and whispered, "Let's get you home."

**A/N: **Kind of short, I know, but let me know what you think!


	15. Goner

**A/N: **I updated faster this time! Are you proud of me? I'm sorry that I have kept you guys waiting in the last few chapters. You are all still completely faithful, and I appreciate that!

**Disclaimer: **If only.

**CHAPTER 15: **_Goner_

As Jane and Lisbon slowly made their way back to her apartment complex, Lisbon became acutely aware that Jane never removed his arm from around her waist. He claimed he didn't want her to over-work her leg, and that she looked absolutely exhausted, which she was. She didn't fight back when he stood her up in the grass next to the cliff ledge and wound an arm around her waist. She simply leaned into him and let him lead the way home.

When they reached her apartment, he wordlessly scooped her up, as if she was a small child, and she let out a startled gasp. "I'm perfectly capable of making my way up the stairs," she told him with a smirk.

"I know," he replied, shrugging. He set her down carefully at the top and opened her front door, allowing her to enter before he did. As Lisbon threw him a little goodnight wave and began to make her way toward the staircase, he said, "Lisbon?"

She turned to face him. The lights were still off in her apartment, but she could just make out his sad, worried expression. "Please," he whispered. "Don't ever leave me like that again."

Her throat caught and tears suddenly welled up in her eyes again. She stared at him, at his heartbroken blue eyes and exhausted expression. She walked toward him again, her eyes never leaving his. "I won't," she whispered back. She stretched up on her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, clearly catching him off guard. She touched his arm, letting her fingers linger longer than necessary. "Goodnight, Jane." With that, she dropped her hand and went upstairs.

X

When Lisbon woke up the next morning, she was greeted by the heavenly aroma of pancakes being cooked downstairs. She grinned involuntarily, throwing the covers aside and hopping out of bed. She hurried downstairs, as fast as her walking cast would take her, and halted in her tracks. The sight of Patrick Jane with an apron on and spatula in hand was quite a scene. She leaned against the wall, smiling as he began to whistle. It was a strange turn of events. Just a few hours ago, she was sobbing in his arms and now…

Dread flooded through her as the events from a few hours ago came hurdling back to her. How weak she must have seemed, crying and whimpering in front of Jane, apologizing over and over again. That was certainly something Jane didn't see every day.

"Hi," she croaked as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

He turned and smiled at her. "Good morning. Are you hungry?"

She nodded, trying to smile back. "Famished."

"Good," he said, turning to flip the pancake he was working on. "I raided your cupboards. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not."

Jane set a cup of hot coffee in front of her and she sighed contently. "Thank you," she said gratefully. She raised the cup to her lips and took a drink before setting it down again. Lisbon took a deep breath. "Listen," she began. When he turned to offer his full attention, she swallowed. "About last night… or this morning, or whatever-"

"You don't need to-"

"Yes, I do," she interrupted. "I'm sorry about that. I am honestly _never _like that. I don't know what came over me."

"Lisbon, you don't need to apologize," he replied, pulling another chair and sitting across from her.

She dropped her eyes. "You must have thought I was so pathetic."

"No!" he exclaimed, bringing a finger underneath her chin and forcing her to look at him. "Never."

She didn't respond.

Jane set his folded hands on the kitchen table, staring deep into her eyes. "It was six days after they were found dead."

"What was?"

"My breakdown."

Lisbon's heart sped up. "Oh, God, Jane." She shook her head. "You don't need to tell me any of that. Really. I'm okay."

"I want to tell you," he said simply. "Unless you don't want to hear it, I would like you to know."

She pressed her lips together. "What I meant was, I don't want you to feel pressured."

He shook his head. "No pressure." He leaned forward. "It was six days after they were found dead. I was just beginning to work my way out of the denial phase. It was the acceptance phase that needed serious work." He sighed. It was his turn to drop his eyes. "I was at their funeral. Everyone around me was giving me the same damned _look." _He looked up at her again. "I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about. The pitiful look, the sympathetic look, like you are the most pathetic person on the face of the planet. The look that is enough to make you crazy, that makes you want to scream."

She nodded. She knew exactly which "look" he was talking about.

"They were just beginning to lower them into the ground when it happened," Jane went on. "My breathing accelerated, like I had just run a marathon, and I was screaming at everyone in sight. 'They'll suffocate down there!' I shouted. I guess the whole denial phase had come back." He shrugged. "I lunged for the caskets, and Pete had to grab me from behind to hold me back. I was kicking him, screaming at the top of my lungs, sobbing hysterically. I remember that nothing seemed… real. It was like everything in front of me was a blur. It was more like a nightmare than reality. A nightmare I couldn't escape no matter how hard I tried."

Lisbon was speechless. She tried to open her mouth to say something, anything, but her voice couldn't find her lips.

"I eventually passed out," Jane said. "I don't know if Pete knocked me out because he had no other choice, or if everything was just too much for me. I woke up to white. Nothing but white. White walls, white floors, white bedding. I was strapped to the bed, breathing heavily."

"That's when you met Sophie?" Lisbon finally asked.

He nodded. "It was later that day, after they made sure I wouldn't… attack her or something." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "When I woke, I didn't know where I was. I couldn't understand why they were treating me like I was a child, very careful with everything they said and did. I kept asking to see my wife. Demanding, really. The nurses would just say that I couldn't see her, that she wasn't here. I was confused. 'Where is she?' I would ask. 'I'm sure she will be back soon.'" Jane smiled bashfully at Lisbon. "Okay, so what I'm getting at is… it's okay to lose it sometimes." He chuckled. "Maybe not as extreme as being locked up."

"Hey." She reached across the table and grasped his hand. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't be ashamed."

He pulled his hand away. "This isn't about me. I was-"

"I know what you were doing, and I appreciate it," she said, smiling. "Thanks, Jane. For telling me all that, I mean."

"No problem." He stood from the table. "Pancakes?"

X

Lisbon took a deep breath, lifted her hand, and rapped three times on the door.

Jane glanced over to her. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded, swallowing. "I never really got the chance to speak to them at the funeral. I kind of stayed back, away from everyone."

"I get that," he said slowly. "But this is just very sudden."

Teresa shrugged. "You know when you're lying in bed at one o'clock in the morning, desperate for sleep, and everything that you have forced yourself to put off thinking about comes rushing back to you?" She smiled sheepishly. "That happened to me last night, and I realized that I should probably come see how they're doing."

"Would you feel better if I stayed in the car?" he asked. "I don't want to impose."

"No, please don't."

And before she could further explain why she needed him there, as far as moral support went, the front door opened, and she was standing face-to-face with Kristen Grammar. "Teresa," she breathed, smiling softly. Kristen stepped forward without a thought and put her arms around her friend. "You look good. How are you?"

Teresa pulled back and smiled. "Good." She hesitated. "Um, w-what about you?"

Kristen sighed. "You know," was all she said. Then, she noticed Jane. "Hello, Mr. Jane. It's good to see you again."

"Likewise." He beamed. "May we come in?"

She nodded. "Of course." Kristen Grammar stepped aside to let them pass. She watched as Patrick thoughtlessly took Teresa's hand to help her through the doorway, only to let go once she had crossed the threshold. Jane noticed a brief smile whisper across Kristen's lips before she closed the door behind them. She led them into the living room. "Please, make yourself at home. Can I offer either of you coffee, tea?"

"Tea would be lovely." Leave it to Jane.

Lisbon rolled her eyes at him. "I'm okay, Kristen, thanks."

Kristen smiled briefly before turning on her heel and heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

Jane looked to Lisbon, who sighed. "What is it?" he asked her.

"She's different."

He chuckled once. Humorlessly, of course. "Losing a child can do that to you."

Jane watched her face pale. She looked at him, eyes wide, but he just placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, it's okay. Don't say it."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. It's okay."

"Aunt Reese?"

Lisbon looked up to see where the little voice had come from. Her face broke into a smile. "Hey there, sweetheart!"

Jane looked up, too. Peyton Grammar was descending the staircase, her cupid-bow lips shaped into a small smile. When she saw Teresa rise from the couch, the little girl picked up speed and flung herself into Lisbon's arms. Jane's heart warmed unexpectedly as Lisbon let out one of her rare, carefree laughs as she stroked Peyton's honey-colored hair. "How are you doing, sweetie?" she whispered to the girl.

Peyton sighed. "Okay." When Lisbon released her, she looked at Jane. "Patrick, right?"

He grinned. "Right."

"I didn't know you and Teresa were friends."

"I work with her."

Peyton pursed her lips, as if deep in thought, then looked back to Lisbon. "Which one is he?" she asked. "The serious one, the psychic, or the one who eats a lot?"

Jane laughed out loud.

"The psychic," Lisbon replied, winking at Jane.

"I'm not psychic, Peyton," he explained. "I'm just smart."

Lisbon snorted. "Give me a break."

Kristen entered the room, carrying a saucer with a teacup on top. She handed it to Jane, who thanked her and took a sip. She encouraged everyone to sit, including her daughter, and she took a seat herself on the couch next to Lisbon. "So," Kristen said. "This is a surprise."

"I hope we're not imposing-" Lisbon began.

Kristen waved her hand at her. "Nonsense. You're never imposing, Teresa."

"I was just checking up on you guys," Teresa told her, brushing a hair out of her own face.

"We're doing fine," Kristen assured her with a smile. She looked over to her daughter affectionately. "Peyton placed first in one of her events at her gymnastics meet last weekend."

"First, huh?" Jane jumped in, smiling at Peyton. "You must be pretty good."

The little girl shrugged. "I'm alright."

"I would love to see your award, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

Peyton blushed, glancing at her mother.

"Go ahead," Kristen encouraged.

Jane hopped up, like an excited little kid, and followed Peyton out of the room to the kitchen. Lisbon watched him go with her, unaware that she was wearing a smile. Kristen was grinning when she looked back.

"What?" Lisbon asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Oh, sweetheart," Kristen cooed, taking a sip of her own tea. "You're a goner."

**A/N: **Okay, so I know this chapter didn't exactly answer your questions. I promise that I am getting to that. Please don't become impatient. Answers are coming, soon. I swear. This chapter was pretty much… fluff. I hope you liked it. I enjoyed writing it. Things are beginning to calm down a bit in my life, so I will have more time to write, which is good. I don't have to keep you guys waiting forever and ever. I don't do it on purpose, truly I don't. Anyway, now that I have rambled, I would love some reviews!


	16. The Dream

**A/N: **The very first thing I would like to say was that I loved last night's episode. Of course, I loved the part at the end where Jane was teasing Lisbon, but my favorite part was Jane, being Jane, calling the principal whatever he called him. :)

Now, for the moment you have all been waiting for, I present: what really happened.

**Disclaimer: **Nothing is mine.

**CHAPTER 16:** _The Dream_

"So, where now?" Jane asked as he buckled his seatbelt and turned to face Lisbon.

She stared at the Grammar's house, biting her lip and thinking. "I don't know," she answered honestly, turning to look at him. "I mean, I was hoping that today I could begin my… mission to figure out what happened to me. But I honestly don't know where to start…" she trailed off, looking down thoughtfully. "I don't see where we _could _go."

He nodded slowly. "Well," he began. "We could start by trying to hypnotize you again."

She leaned back against the headrest. "We've tried that."

"Yes, but I don't see that we have any other options at the moment," Jane said patiently, jabbing the keys into the ignition and putting the car in reverse.

"And if that doesn't work?"

Jane put his piece-of-crap car in drive and sighed as he took off down the road. "I really wish I had an answer for you." His bright blue eyes flicked over to meet hers. "I hate not knowing the answers. I really don't know what we'd do from there."

She didn't push the issue any further, knowing very well that if Jane knew what to do, he'd let her know.

"I'm sorry," came his strained apology a few moments later.

"What?" she asked, perplexed. "Don't apologize."

"I _will _have a plan in motion," he promised her as he pulled into the parking lot of a quaint local coffee shop. "I just don't have one at the moment."

"I believe you." And she did. She had complete faith in Jane, especially when it came to this kind of stuff. If anybody could help her remember, it would be him.

X

"You ready?" he asked softly.

She took a deep breath, nodding her head. "Ready."

"Okay. I need you to close your eyes."

She did as he said.

"Clear your mind. This is an important step, Lisbon. Let your mind go blank." His voice was smooth, soothing. "You just smiled. You shouldn't be smiling. You should be clearing your mind," he scolded her.

"Sorry." Lisbon took a deep breath, letting everything that was on her mind creep away. She concentrated on the sound of Jane's voice as he spoke soft, soothing words to her. Pretty soon, the sound of his voice was so… distant, like he wasn't here with her anymore.

"_Do you remember getting into bed that night?" _Jane asked her.

She mumbled something like, "Mm-hmm."

"_Good. Do you remember the approximate time you fell asleep?"_

"Somethin' like..." She thought for a moment, her eyes still closed. "Ten-thirty? Somethin' like that," she slurred.

"_What were you thinking about while you fell asleep?"_

"You, probably," she murmured.

There was silence. It never occurred to Lisbon until later why Jane's questions had come to an abrupt pause. _"Like what?" _he asked.

She felt herself shrug. "The usual."

Another pause. _"Okay."_ He hesitated. _"Did you have any dreams that night?"_

Lisbon squeezed her eyes shut, thinking hard. Had she dreamt that night? "Um, I…" she trailed off. Her memory went blank from there. Except… yes! She had dreamt that night! The meadow. The creek. The shouts. Jane. "Yeah," she whispered. "I dreamt that night."

"_R-really?" _Jane stammered, obvious surprise highlighting his tone. "_What did you dream about, Lisbon?"_

Lisbon didn't respond. Flashbacks of her running through the tall grass, leaning over the riverbed to get a better look, launching herself into the water. It was the same dream that she had had a few times.

Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar voice in her ear. _"Miss Lisbon? Are you there?"_

Teresa gasped, and her eyes flew open. The fuzziness in her senses began to melt away, and she was staring into Jane's hopeful eyes. "You remembered," he breathed, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You remembered that you dreamt, Lisbon!"

"But that's it," she whispered. "I don't remember waking up that night."

"It's okay!" He was like a giddy, excited kid on Christmas morning. "It's okay, because it's improvement!" He smiled and threw his arms around her, like he couldn't control himself. "Your memory is coming back, Lisbon," he said in her ear. "Slowly, but it's coming back!"

She nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence. All she could do was close her eyes, rest her head on his shoulder, and hope that he was right.

X

_Riiing… Riiiing…_

_Her eyes snapped open and she groaned, rolling over to look at the digital alarm clock on her nightstand._

_No, it couldn't be her alarm. It was only 2:30 AM._

_Riiing… Riiing…_

_What the hell?_

_Was that her phone?_

_She snatched her phone from the nightstand, thinking that it was probably Jane, calling to let her know he was "bored"._

_Unknown Caller._

That's odd, _she thought. It was probably just a bunch of stupid kids on a prank-calling spree, shooting to piss off random strangers in the middle of the night. She answered the call anyway. "Hello?" she mumbled._

"_Hello, Miss Lisbon."_

_She knitted her brows together. "Hi?" When a creepy chuckle sent shivers down her spine, she asked, "Who is this?"_

"_I'm a… friend of a friend." Another dark, disturbing chuckle, like he thought he was the most amusing human being on the planet._

_Lisbon sat up a little straighter, pulling the comforter closer to her chest. "And which friend might that be?" she asked, attempting not to let her voice shake._

"_Patrick," he answered almost immediately, a bit smug. "He and I have been… acquaintances for some time now. It's awfully shameful how we had to meet, though. Friends don't speak poorly of friends behind their backs, do they?"_

_It took Lisbon's sleepy, foggy mind to comprehend what was going on here. But when she finally understood, her jaw dropped and her blood ran cold. "Red John?" _

_Another chuckle came across the line. "Well done, Miss Lisbon," he praised her. "I wasn't sure if you would catch my hints."_

"_I did," she growled between clenched teeth. "What do you want?"_

"_The real question is, what do _you _want?"_

"_What is that supposed to mean?"_

"_What it means is, I have your friend," he explained. "I am curious to see what you will do to keep him safe."_

_Lisbon gasped involuntarily. "You have Jane?" she demanded furiously._

"_I do," he replied, calm and collected._

"_I don't believe you!" she snarled._

_There was a sigh on the other end. Lisbon waited as there was a shuffling sound on the other end, then, "Lisbon?"_

_And there it was. The telltale sound of Jane's worried voice. Lisbon clapped a hand to her mouth. She hadn't realized that she had started to cry until she felt the moisture soak into her hand. "Jane?" she croaked. "Jane, are you alright? Has he hurt you?"_

"_Proof enough for you?" came the other voice._

"_Let me talk to him again!"_

_The man clucked his tongue. "I don't think so."_

"_Don't hurt him!" she blurted. "I'll do anything!"_

_The bastard chuckled again. "I thought you might say that," he purred. "I do have a compromise I am willing to propose." He sighed. "Patrick doesn't like it. I just… I feel like there's no other way."_

"_Tell me what I need to do." _

_He was smiling now, no doubt. "First, take out a piece of paper and pen. Tell everyone you love goodbye."_

_She didn't move. She sat in her bed as her fate slowly unfolded before her. There was no question in her mind that she was going to die tonight. Fear paralyzed her. She willed herself to move. _You're doing this for Jane, _she thought to herself as more tears escaped. _Don't be a coward. You're doing this for Jane.

_She found a pad of paper and a pen. Her hands trembled as she wrote:_

To my team: It has been an honor working with you all. You are a great portion of the reason I love my job so much. You are amazing agents, an amazing consultant in Jane's case, and I know that you will do something incredible with your lives.

To my brothers: I love you three more than you could possibly imagine. I have no regrets when it comes to taking care of you years ago. Please, make peace with each other. It's my final wish, as I knew it always would be when this day would come.

I love you all. Take care of yourselves. I hope you can forgive me someday.

"_Have you finished?" Red John asked her in a polite tone._

"_Yes," she whispered as she shoved the note into the jeans that she was in the process of pulling on._

"_Good. Now, do you know of the canyon that is behind your apartment building? It's a good, oh, mile. Mile and a half. Something like that."_

"_I know the place," she said flatly._

"_Go to the cliff. Jump."_

_Her throat caught. "Jump," she repeated._

"_Yes," he replied patiently. "Once you've done that, I will release Patrick. You are his only hope now, Miss Lisbon. I do hope that you make the right decision."_

_Lisbon bowed her head and covered her mouth with her hand, desperately trying to silence the sobs that were now rocking her body. She couldn't believe this was happening._

_The amazing part about all of this was, she would jump off that cliff without a second thought, if it meant that Jane had a better chance of survival. What troubled her most was the fact that he was somewhere with a monster, the same monster who took everything away from him. The monster in question was probably torturing him, taunting him with heartbreaking memories of the deaths of his dearests. Jane was suffering, and she was his last hope._

"_Miss Lisbon? Are you there?" Red John's voice droned._

"_Lisbon? Lisbon!" came Jane's voice again._

"_Jane!" she shrieked. She pulled on her sweatshirt. "I'm coming, I promise!"_

"_I'll be watching, Miss Lisbon," said the monster. "After you hang up with me, there will be no more phone calls. Understood? Just to be sure, turn off your phone and leave it home."_

"_But-"_

"_Arguing will not help Patrick." He chuckled. "I'm looking forward to seeing you, dear. Goodbye." Click._

"_ROT IN HELL, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" she screamed at the phone, even though he had hung up. She turned off her phone, just as he had told her to, and slammed it down on the nightstand. She knew that throwing a temper tantrum would do her no good, but she didn't care. It was her last night. She was allowed to throw a fit._

_She tried to make herself stop crying as she made her way through those dark woods behind her apartment complex. Red John and his men were probably watching her, snickering at her weakness. She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up a little straighter, walked a little faster._

_She wasn't an idiot. She knew that jumping off that cliff probably wouldn't save Jane's life. This _was _Red John, after all. He would probably force Jane to watch her jump, and then slit his throat immediately after. But she had to try. She couldn't just go back to sleep and do nothing._

_Hell, if Jane was killed, she would never be able to sleep again. She would spend the rest of her life with her mind and soul right here, at this canyon, wishing she had jumped._

_Now, she stood at the ledge of the cliff, her sneakers right on the edge. She shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "You aren't going to come out of your hiding place?" she asked out loud._

_A dark chuckle coming from the shadows made her skin crawl. "I'm comfortable where I am, thank you very much." He paused. "I suppose you are going to ask to see him."_

"_No," she said, eyes still closed. "He doesn't need to see me like this."_

_Someone let out a strangled cry from the trees, like their mouth was being smothered. Jane, no doubt._

_Lisbon squeezed her eyes shut and stepped off the ledge, letting out a shriek as she fell down, down, down…_

She gasped and sat straight up in bed. Sweat soaked her hair and face, and she was panting.

"JANE!" she screamed. "JANE?"

"Lisbon!" came his cry from downstairs.

Lisbon threw the covers aside and jumped out of bed, struggling to hurry toward the door. Jane was quick, beating her to her bedroom door before she could get there. He rushed in, grasping her shoulders. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

"It's back!" she shrieked.

"What is?" he asked cautiously.

"My memory. It's back!"

**A/N: **Well, what do you know? Some people guessed that someone did it to her. Some people guessed that she did, in fact, jump. It's a little of both. Of course, there are still unanswered questions. Like, Red John couldn't have been holding Jane captive. He would have remembered that. Right? Or... why didn't RJ just kill Lisbon the old fashioned way? Why didn't he sneak into her home in the middle of the night, and perform his signature artistic skills with her blood? All in good time, my friends.

Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear what you think. Review, please?


	17. Broken Promises

**A/N: **Please don't hate me. I know it's been a while since I have updated, but I have just been suffering a serious case of writer's block and it has taken me a while to get over.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Chapter 17: **Broken Promises

By the time she was finished telling him everything, she was near hysterics and he looked utterly confused. They were seated on the edge of her bed, his hands gripping her arms and holding her firmly down in place so she wouldn't throw herself to the ceiling. Her eyes were wide and desperate and her lip was quivering throughout the entire story. She was so afraid that it broke his heart. She tried to break loose from his grip but he never let her go. Not once.

Jane's mouth was set in a hard line, and his grip tightened around her arms. "_Red John?"_

"Yes!" she wailed.

His mouth fluttered open then snapped shut, like a fish. He stared at her for a long time before finally speaking up. "Teresa, I wasn't taken by Red John," he whispered. "I mean… I think I would have remembered that. Don't you?"

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, groaning in frustration. "I'm obviously losing my freaking mind. This probably has _nothing _to do with Red John."

"No, no. That isn't what I am saying."

"Well, that's what _I'm _saying." She looked away from him, down at the carpet, embarrassed. "I'm sorry I woke you," she apologized. "Go back to sleep."

"No."

"Please."

"I'm not saying that I don't believe you," he explained quickly, as she tried to wriggle free again. "I'm just saying that I wasn't taken. Whoever you heard on the phone, or in the woods, it wasn't me." After a few seconds of unbearable silence, he sighed. "Will you _please _look at me?" He was practically begging now.

Her sorrow-filled green eyes slowly moved to meet his.

"Red John is smart," Jane began, feeling silly for stating the obvious. "It could have so easily been him that night."

"But why break the pattern?" she asked, staring deep into his eyes. "Why switch methods? He has never done anything like this before."

"He probably thought that the fall would kill you," he said bluntly, averting his eyes. "He probably thought that the suspense would kill _me."_

"But it didn't kill me," she pointed out. "Why didn't he kill me after I survived?"

"Because you didn't remember," he murmured, speaking to both Lisbon and himself as he begun to put the pieces together. "You didn't remember, and he knew that the suspense would kill _you, _too."

"But what if my dream was really just a dream?" she asked, shoulders slumping. "What if it was just a nightmare and Red John had nothing to do with this? What if I am seriously losing my mind?" She let her eyes flutter shut and she shook her head. "This doesn't make any sense," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Jane said firmly, finally releasing her. "This isn't your fault, Lisbon. I don't understand why you keep apologizing to me."

Lisbon opened her mouth to speak, when three brisk knocks on her front door downstairs brought her voice to a halt. She looked up at Jane with wide, confused eyes. They both looked over at her clock.

"Come on," he whispered, standing up from the bed and pulling her with him.

They crept down the stairs, and as they made their way toward the front door, they discovered that someone had slid a note underneath Lisbon's door. Jane didn't need his speical skills to figure out who the sender was.

"Oh my God," Lisbon breathed.

Jane nodded stiffly, bending down and retrieving the folded piece of paper. Taking a deep breath, he unfolded it.

_Agent Lisbon,_

_First of all, I would like to congratulate you on getting your memory back. How exciting that must be for you! After all those sleepless nights and hypnosis sessions, I am willing to bet that you are absolutely ecstatic! I know I am. What makes all of this so great is the fact that Mr. Jane is reading this over your shoulder, no doubt. Be a dear and pass on a message for me, will you? Tell him that it has only just begun._

_-RJ._

Anger boiled inside of him. Knowing damn well that there was no point in trying to chase after Red John, for he was almost certainly gone, Jane shoved the note into Lisbon's waiting hands and turned toward the staircase, taking two steps at a time until he reached the top. Jane stomped around Lisbon's bedroom, ripping open drawers and shoving her dresser and nightstand aside. He dragged a chair toward the window, stepping up onto the chair and feeling around the top of the curtain. When he came across what felt like a wire, he grasped it tightly and ripped it from its place. When he pulled his hand back, he found that Red John had indeed bugged Lisbon's bedroom.

And now he was _furious._

He resisted the overwhelming urge to shout, cry, and hit something. Every bone in his body was screaming for him to hunt down the bastard and kill him. Of course, he always felt like this, but usually not this intensely.

But then he turned and saw her standing in the doorway, clutching the note, terrified, and he knew he had to keep it together.

For her.

She finally spoke up. "He was listening." It wasn't a question. It was a simple statement.

He cleared his throat. "Yes."

"He was here."

"Yes."

"When?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I don't know," he confessed, dropping his eyes. "Most likely when you were in the hospital."

She just nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Jane breathed.

"For what?" Lisbon's voice was empty. "It's not your fault."

"Like hell it isn't." Suddenly, he cursed himself for losing composure. _Keep it together, moron. _"It's okay. We'll get him. Soon." Jane took a step toward her. "I promise you."

"Okay."

"You don't believe me."

"Not really," Lisbon admitted, almost apologetically.

"Why not?"

"You know why."

It was true, he did. She didn't believe him because he had made so many broken promises over the years. So many times he had sworn to catch Red John when he hadn't. So many times he had promised to change and he hadn't.

"I promise you," he whispered, taking her hand. "We'll get him."

**A/N: **I know, not very exciting. But will you please review anyway? :)


	18. Always & Never

**A/N: **So, I know I promised to update this last week. I'm sorry. Finals take up so much time, I'm sure you all know. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 18: **_Always & Never_

The text message contained an address, date, and time. That was it.

Well, not exactly. It also ordered him to "come alone."

Other than that, that was it.

Jane stared at his cell phone screen, clutching the phone more tightly than intended. It was an Unknown number, of course. He knew that there was no point in wasting time trying to track the number. The owner was smart. He was clean. He never left a trail unless it was a false lead, to throw them off track.

Jane was to meet him at three o'clock sharp this afternoon.

He glanced at Lisbon's ticking clock on the wall. Three in the morning. He had twelve hours.

He had promised Lisbon he would try to sleep, but he knew that wasn't going to happen now.

He needed to plot and plan carefully.

He needed to gather his thoughts.

He needed to be ready.

X

"Jane?" her voice creaked from behind him.

He turned and when he smiled at her, it wasn't even a fake smile. He had gotten used to seeing her in the mornings, with her messy curls and the confused look in her green eyes.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

She smiled back a little. "Morning," she replied as she sat down at the kitchen table. "What are you doing?"

"Making scrambled eggs." His grin widened. "Would you like some?"

"Yes, please."

He dished some eggs onto two plates and set one in front of her, taking a seat across from her. She thanked him, picking up her fork. He didn't miss the fact that she was staring at him.

"What?"

She shook her head and took a bite of her eggs. "You are really good at this."

"I _am _an excellent cook," he agreed.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about your culinary skills," she snapped. "Your composure."

"What are you talking about?"

"You, Jane!" She let go of her fork and it clinked against the plate. "You usually go crazy, absolutely _insane, _whenever Red John enters the picture. No, whenever Red John simply strolls _by _the picture. Now, you have complete control over your emotions and it scares the hell out of me." She leaned forward. "What's going on, Jane?"

He froze, biting the inside of his lip and staring directly into her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Lisbon."

"Sure you don't."

"I really don't."

She stared him down for a few moments longer before dropping her eyes. She picked up her fork again but didn't touch her food. Jane watched her as his chest tightened. He didn't like that. He didn't like it when he hurt her.

"I wish you trusted me," Lisbon murmured.

That did it.

He slammed his fist onto the table, rattling the plates and the forks and probably Lisbon's brain. She jumped, startled, and glared at him in bewilderment. "What the hell, Jane?"

"I hate it when you say that," Jane snarled. "And what I hate even more is that I think you actually feel that way."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she hissed, shoving her plate toward the middle of the table and pushing her chair away from the table. "Thanks for breakfast." She stood up, turned, and stomped up the stairs.

Jane listened to each heavy footstep, and he cringed when he heard her bedroom door slam. He shut his eyes and sighed. He hated fighting with her. He hated fighting with her as much as he had hated fighting with Angela, maybe more. It was all so familiar. The accusations and the wounded voices and the slamming of doors. It was so familiar, too familiar.

But Lisbon always forgave him, just like Angela had.

Jane glanced toward the staircase, realization striking him.

They were so much alike.

He had never noticed that before.

The beautiful eyes. The petite frame. The captivating smile. The cute laugh. The fiery temper.

Lisbon practically _was _Angela.

But she wasn't.

They were also completely different.

Lisbon was more independent than Angela had been. He had loved the way his wife had _always_ turned to him for help. Lisbon would _never _ask for help unless she was completely desperate. Angela was also much more open, willing to talk about how she feels about everything. Lisbon was not. She would rather keep everything bottled up than be a burden. Not that she could _ever _be a burden.

Lisbon's voice saying his name pulled him from his train of thought and he looked up from where he still sat at the table.

She was standing in the entry of the kitchen, staring at him with a broken expression.

He hadn't even heard her come in.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, standing up and taking a step toward her.

She nodded, paused, and then shrugged. "I think so."

"What's the matter?"

"I'm sorry."

He blinked three times, and she blushed beneath his stare. "For what?" he finally asked.

She threw a glance toward the kitchen table and then back to him. "For this morning. For ruining the nice breakfast that you made for me. For accusing you of not trusting me."

Jane swallowed hard. She shouldn't be apologizing. He was the one lying to her. "I do trust you," he told her sincerely. "You know that, right?"

Lisbon nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why I said it."

"You're under a lot of stress."

"So are you."

He resisted the urging temptation to reach out and tuck a curl behind her ear. "I'm fine."

"Me too."

"Good."

"Hey, Jane?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He smiled, slightly caught off guard. "For what?" he asked for the second time in five minutes.

Her lips twitched. "For being here."

Lisbon's eyes sparkled as she said it. They were so beautiful. The only time Jane managed to tear his own eyes away from hers was when he glanced down to her lips for a split-second. His actions didn't go unnoticed, and a faint blush highlighted her small cheekbones. "I'm, uh, going to go take a shower," she said before turning and heading for the staircase.

Jane watched her go with a small smile.

**A/N: **Okay, so I added a little fluff to balance out the fight. What did you think? The next chapter will be Jane's confrontation with Red John. Is there anything you guys would like to see? I don't mind suggestions, I really don't. :-)


	19. Distractions

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! You are all still awesome! :) I hope you guys like this chapter. Personally, it is one of my favorites. I'm not really sure why, but I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it!

**Disclaimer: **Nada.

**Chapter 19: **Distractions

"Hey, boss!" Rigsby greeted cheerfully when Lisbon hobbled into the bullpen on her walking cast. He and Cho stood up from their desks, each wearing an identical excited grin. "We've missed you."

"Yeah, it sure isn't the same around here without you and Van Pelt," Cho piped in. He glanced at Jane. "Same with you," he added stoically.

"I'm sure," Jane droned sarcastically, though it truly didn't bother him.

"As soon as my physical therapist clears it and I get this damn walking cast off, I'll be back and ready to take down some bad guys. I seriously can't wait." She smiled, glancing over at Jane. "Jane will be back soon. Once Grace comes back, Jane will be back to work."

"We really have missed you, man," Rigsby assured the consultant.

Jane chuckled. "I bet you have." The truth was, Jane had missed working at the CBI, even if it had only been just a few days. Of course, he was happy to take care of Lisbon, and he had missed Lisbon while he was working. It wasn't the same without the two women. Lisbon and Van Pelt were the ones who kept everyone in line, or made a great attempt to, anyway.

"How's everything going around here?" Lisbon asked Rigsby and Cho. "I mean, I've been watching the news, and you guys have done well. Has it been going as smooth as the media cares to portray?"

Rigsby shrugged. "I guess. Still, it isn't the same without the rest of you." He glanced over to the break room, where the substitute agent was sipping coffee and chatting with Paige Clemens from the DA's office. "Agent Taylor is the most irritating person I have ever met in my entire life." He met Jane's eyes. "He makes you seem like an angel."

Jane perked up, smiling in amusement. "Really?" he asked in disbelief, glancing over to the break room. He had met Agent Taylor. He had worked with him, though he had never really taken the time to get to know him.

"Truly," Cho spoke up. "When you irritate us, at least you are somewhat entertaining. Taylor is a jackass, just because that is who he is."

"Interesting," Jane mused.

"Don't even think about it," the boss warned.

His eyes flicked to Lisbon's, mock confusion highlighting his blue irises. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

Teresa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She shook her head and focused her attention toward Cho and Rigsby again. "Fill me in on the latest case," she requested eagerly, her eyes brightening.

Rigsby and Cho jumped in immediately, making Jane smile. They really had missed their boss, and were eager for her to return to work. Jane watched the three of them interact. Their eyes were all bright, happy to be reunited. His smile widened when Lisbon started barking orders and turned to retreat to her office. Just like old times.

Jane glanced at the clock and his heart sunk. 2:15 in the afternoon.

It was almost showtime.

"Are you guys hungry?" Jane asked Cho and Rigsby, who were already getting to work at their respective desks. They both looked up at him, and Jane could almost see the light bulbs floating above their heads. "Because if you are, I can go grab lunch. There isn't much for me to do around here right now."

"Sounds great," Rigsby jumped in, smiling. Cho nodded in agreement.

"Great. I'll be back in a bit."

Jane walked out of the elevator and toward Lisbon's office, patting his jacket pocket to make sure his pistol was where it was supposed to be. He took a deep breath before poking his head into Lisbon's lair. "Hey," he said, and she looked up. "I'm going to grab some lunch for the boys. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Thanks, Jane."

He smiled at her before ducking out and heading for the elevators.

He was just pressing the button when he stopped.

What if this didn't end well?

What if he never saw her again?

He thought back to their conversation on the roof after the Doc Dugan case. He thought about how he claimed that he wouldn't care what people thought of him when he was dead. He still stood by his statement, but at this exact moment, he couldn't bear to think about Lisbon hating him if he got killed today.

She might hate him anyway, but there just one last thing he needed to do.

He pivoted on his heel and hurried toward Lisbon's office again. He breathed deeply, not giving himself a chance to talk himself out of it. He burst through the door without knocking. She was next to her desk, sorting through papers. She looked up, puzzled. "Jane? You okay?"

He made it to her in three long strides. He grabbed her face between her hands and pressed his lips against hers.

He could tell by the way she tensed up that he had caught her completely off guard, and he couldn't blame her. He wasn't really expecting this either.

Yet here he was, kissing Teresa Lisbon.

And here _she _was, finally kissing him back.

Her lips were soft and smooth against his. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, as close as he could possibly bring her. This was better than he had imagined. So much better.

It took every single ounce of strength within him to pull back to look at her face. Her eyes were still closed. She didn't say anything. She simply kept her eyes closed and breathed. He moved his hands from her waist to the sides of her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'm really leaving now."

With that, he released her and turned, biting back a smile at her groan of protest.

He wished he could stay, but he couldn't. He had serial killer to face.

X

Okay, maybe kissing Lisbon before rushing off to face a psychopath hadn't been the greatest idea.

Because now, his head was fuzzy and his heart was fluttering. How was he supposed to confront a serial killer when he was feeling _happy?_

In fact, the kiss had him so distracted that he ran right through a stop sign.

"Pull yourself together, Jane," he muttered to himself as he pulled up to the address Red John had given him. He scanned the exterior of the house and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Of course _he was instructed to meet the murderer here. It was an old, creaky house with only a few other houses around it. What was left of the paint on the house was a faded blue, and the porch steps looked like they could collapse at any moment. He sighed and glanced around. No car in sight. Go figure.

With a deep breath, he opened his door and climbed out of the car. He felt around the outside of his pocket for the gun again, which was still in place.

He knew what the odds were. There was a good chance that he wouldn't win this battle, or that his enemy might not even be in there.

As he crossed the yard toward the front porch, Jane tried to tell himself that he was doing this for Angela and Charlotte when in reality he was doing this for Lisbon, too. She deserved closure and even if he failed to give that to her, he had to try.

He walked up the squeaking wooden steps and set his hand on the doorknob. He ushered all the courage he had to the hand that twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

The inside of the house was just as run-down as the outside. Outdated wallpaper. Dusty furniture. Broken glass littered the wooden floor.

"Something tells me home improvement isn't exactly on the agenda today," Jane called out, his voice echoing through the house.

He listened, perhaps waiting for a response, and a cold shiver ran up his spine when he heard a ghostly chuckle in the distance.

He tried to follow the sound but it was difficult to tell where exactly it came from. He tried again. "I do have a job to get back to," he said loudly. "So if we could just get right to the point that would be lovely."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Patrick whipped around and his hand reflexively went for his pocket. He nearly smiled at the action; it was very Lisbon-like.

His enemy was still nowhere to be seen.

"You can come out now, if you'd like," Jane suggested, his tone almost sweet. "No pressure," he added. He took another step down the hallway, peeking around the corner of the doorway and into the living room.

His blood turned cold.

In the corner of the room, a rocking chair moved back and forth, back and forth. It was facing the window, as was the person occupying it, so Jane couldn't see their face.

Jane was so distracted that he didn't even hear the footsteps approaching from behind. He was taken completely by surprise when a pair of strong hand gripped his arms and shoved him back, sending him flying against the wall. He let out a howl as his head banged into a table with a sickening _crack. _

And then he blacked out.


	20. The Two Options

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**CHAPTER 20: **The Two Options

It took her body a couple of minutes to work its way back to reality.

Had Patrick Jane just kissed her?

_Twice?_

Once on the lips, and once on the forehead?

"_Jane? You okay?"_

_Suddenly, he was right in front of her, his eyes staring directly into hers, his warm hands on either side of her face. Her first instinct had been to pull away but she couldn't make herself because she knew what came next. Her suspicions were confirmed when he leaned down and pressed his warm lips to hers._

_Lisbon instantly tensed beneath his mouth. It took her a few full seconds to figure out what the hell was going on, but when she did, she reacted. She softened the muscles in her lips and moved them against his, slowly._

_Who knew he'd be a good kisser?_

_When he pulled away, she kept her eyes closed. She didn't trust herself enough to open them . She knew that he would see the disappointment in them. She was rather surprised when she felt the set of lips that had just been connected with hers press a soft, endearing kiss to her forehead._

"_Okay," he whispered in her ear. "I'm really leaving now."_

_She groaned in protest. She hadn't meant to. The growl coming from the base of her throat just slipped out before she could stop herself._

_And he was gone._

Yes. Yes he had.

What the hell had that been all about?

She reached up and touched three fingers to her lips. They were still tingling, still aching for his.

Something wasn't right.

That kiss had been desperate, like he had been afraid of something.

_Random._

Not that she was complaining, but it had just come out of nowhere.

Something definitely wasn't right.

He almost never offered to go out and get everyone lunch unless there was an ulterior motive. More often than not, he was sneaking away to meet a potentially dangerous suspect, or a widow that he had pissed off earlier in a case. Every once in a while he would ask her if she wanted to get something to eat, but he usually didn't offer to go out and bring the entire team food. Nothing wrong with that, but it was just the way Jane was.

She snatched her jacket from the back of her chair and hurried to the elevators.

X

The very first thing he noticed when he woke was that his head was throbbing. When he touched the side of his skull with two of his fingers he gasped. It was tender, extremely tender, and must have been the spot he had hit with the table.

The next thing he noticed was that it was dark. However it wasn't pitch black and he could clearly see that he was not in a room he recognized. He was slumped down against a wall, scanning the room with intensity. It seemed to be a garage of some kind. He also noticed that his gun was gone.

The last thing he saw was a man in the corner of the room, pointing a gun straight at him. A woman stood next to him.

He supposed the man with the large gun should have been the very first thing he noticed.

"Hello Patrick," the man said with a smile. "It's great to meet you, face to face, so to speak."

His words sent shivers down his spine. They were so familiar.

The man gestured to the woman next to him. "This is Lorelei."

The woman had short brown waves, pretty features and a warm smile. She waved her fingers at him. "Hello Patrick," she said, echoing the man. "I've heard so much about you."

"She was the one in the rocking chair," the man explained. "I am taking credit for your headache."

Jane got a good look at him. Roughly five foot nine, dark hair, light eyes. Late thirties to early forties. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt.

If Jane hadn't known any better, he would have mistaken him for a normal person.

But he did know better.

"Cat got your tongue?" the bastard asked lightly.

"I have nothing to say," Jane spat back.

Lorelei smiled.

"Nothing?" Red John wondered.

Patrick shrugged a shoulder indifferently. "Well, 'go to hell' goes without saying, so yes. Nothing."

The man chuckled darkly. "Do you know why I brought you here?"

"Yes," Jane replied curtly.

It was Lorelei who spoke next. "Do you mind sharing?"

He shrugged again. "You are going to kill me."

They both laughed this time, and Jane felt goose bumps rise on his arms. "What makes you say that, Patrick?" Red John questioned.

It was his turn to smile. "Both of your identities are out in the open. If you let me go, I would be able to track you down, identify you." He locked eyes with the serial killer. "The last time I saw you, you were covered from head to toe. You obviously didn't want me to see your face. Now, you don't seem to care."

Lorelei giggled. "Adorable."

"I don't have to kill you, Patrick," Red John said with a smile. "I'm a reasonable man. I will let you live. If I let you go, I know you would never find me. You can trust me on that. But what about a change of lifestyle?" He lowered his gun and took a step toward Jane. "You and I are very much alike, Patrick. We are both smarter than most, and we each have our own special set of skills." He crouched down so he was at Jane's eye level. "What if we formed an alliance? What if you and I were friends?"

Jane stared intently into the monster's eyes, the eyes that his wife and child must have stared into the night they were murdered. The eyes they must have looked into and pleaded for mercy. Jane could clearly see the evil in those eyes, the eyes he had wanted to look into for so long now.

"Like I said, go to hell."

Red John stared at him for a moment longer, genuine anger burning in his eyes, before his expression relaxed and he stood again, backing away from Jane. "You can ask, you know."

"Ask what?" Jane hissed.

"Anything," he answered smugly. "You can ask about the night I-"

"No," Jane interrupted.

"_Or _you could ask why I didn't just kill Teresa with my own hands."

Patrick narrowed his eyes. He didn't say anything.

"Or do you know why?" Red John continued.

"I have my theories," Jane shot back.

Red John and Lorelei stood there, staring, waiting.

Jane fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You knew that the suspense would kill me. You knew that if I couldn't figure out why she did it, it would drive me absolutely mad." He shrugged. "When the fall didn't kill her, and she couldn't remember, you knew that the suspense would torture _her_, which, in result, would torture me as well." He nodded once. "I've got to hand it to you. Your plan worked."

"Oh, good. I'm so glad." The monster raised his gun and aimed it at Jane. "Alright, Patrick. You have two options here." A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Join us, or die."

Jane glowered at the pistol, and then raised his glare to the man holding it. He smiled back, then puckered his lips and spit.

"So stubborn," the man commented in a sad tone, and Lorelei nodded in agreement. Red John moved his finger to the trigger. "Goodbye, Patrick."

Jane shut his eyes, but they immediately snapped open when a familiar voice echoed through the room.

"You two, standing, put your hands up. _Now._"

Lisbon.

Jane could see a bit of panic surfacing in Lorelei's eyes. She tried to maintain her composure but failed miserably. She slid her eyes over to her partner, whose expression never faltered. He continued to aim the gun at Jane.

"You, sir, need to put the weapon down," Lisbon barked, as she aimed her own firearm at the man in question.

Red John chuckled.

"And you, ma'am, put your hands up."

Lorelei didn't move. She continued to stare at Red John.

"I'll shoot," Teresa warned.

Red John laughed again. "No, you won't."

Jane's eyes flickered to Lisbon, who was glaring intently at the couple standing in the middle of the room. Her look seemed to say, _challenge accepted._

"Ma'am, I'm not going to say it again," Lisbon said patiently. "Put your hands up."

Red John, still under the piercing gaze of Lorelei, shook his head slowly.

Lorelei squared her shoulders, but didn't lift her hands.

And Lisbon, known for keeping promises, pulled the trigger.

As the bullet pierced her stomach, Lorelei let out a little gasp. Her eyes moved from Red John's to Jane's before she fell to the ground.

She was dead.

Lisbon had killed her.

"And you thought I wouldn't shoot," Lisbon bragged.

Red John's expression wasn't what Jane had expected. He didn't seem concerned by the fact that his partner was dead, nor even the last bit shocked.

He seemed amused.

"I will give you one more chance," Lisbon warned. "Put. The gun. Down. Now."

Jane watched Red John move his gaze to Lisbon's for the first time and Patrick immediately tensed up. Red John's eyes were cold, sinister, and motivated. He did not want him looking at her like that.

"You sure you want to keep playing this game?" Lisbon challenged, a hint of playfulness in her tone.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Miss Lisbon."

Lisbon tilted her head toward Jane but didn't move her eyes from the man with the gun. "_This _game," she explained, even though she knew damn well that Red John knew exactly what she was talking about. "This game where you make his life miserable."

Red John laughed. "I can assure you that I don't _try _to make his life miserable." He flashed a sly grin. "How are your injuries, Miss Lisbon? Are they healing properly?"

That did it.

_Boom._

One gunshot and the bastard was dead.

Jane stared at the two dead bodies on the floor, Red John's girl and Red John himself. He couldn't believe it. His sweet, sweet Lisbon had just shot and killed two people without a moment's hesitation. Sure, she was a cop, and sure, it was in her job description to take down bad guys, but he had never seen her take anyone out with so much enthusiasm. She usually hated it.

He managed to tear his eyes away from the bodies so he could meet Lisbon's gaze, which was fixed on him. She had already holstered her gun, and she took a step toward Red John and kicked the pistol away from the dead man's hand. "I'm superstitious that way," she explained when Jane shot her a questioning look.

"You killed him," he blurted.

"And her," she added. "Who was she?"

"Her name was Lorelei." Jane stood up and brushed the dust off himself, though he looked like hell anyway. "One of his pets."

"Ah," was all she said, understanding.

"Did you follow me here?"

Lisbon nodded sheepishly. "I knew that something had to be wrong. Sorry I was a little late."

Jane lunged for her and wrapped his arms around her. She didn't even tense up this time. She simply relaxed and wound her own arms around him. "You're not mad?" she whispered.

He chuckled and stroked her silky hair. "Not at all."

She allowed herself to relax into him even further. "Good."

"Teresa?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

She smiled. "For what?"

Jane pulled back slightly to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "For not allowing him to blow my head off."

**A/N: **Cliché? Maybe a little. :) Oh well. Red John and Lorelei are dead. I added Lorelei _and _bits and pieces of the script from the season finale, so if you haven't seen the season finale yet, I do not own Lorelei nor do I own a few lines within this chapter. Just a few, though. Anyway, what did you think of the chapter? And what did you think of the entire story in general? I think I am going to have one more chapter, just to wrap everything up, unless you guys think that might be too much. If so, let me know, please! I don't want to completely bore you. Please review! I _always _appreciate it when you guys review!


	21. DriveIn Movie Theater

**A/N: **Okay guys. Last chapter! I hope you like this one, because I do.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Chapter 21: **Drive-In Movie Theater

"He's dead," Lisbon said softly into the phone as she watched the coroners and forensics rush around the crime scene.

"_Who's dead, boss?" _Grace Van Pelt asked frantically.

"Red John." Lisbon glanced up and met Jane's eyes. He was standing beside her, and when her eyes lifted to his, he smiled and brushed his fingertips along her forearm. It was his way of saying, _I'm really not mad at you. I promise._

There was silence on the other end for a few long beats. Lisbon heard Grace release a long breath before she finally spoke. _"Is Jane okay?"_

"Yes, Jane's fine." Teresa smiled at the man in question and watched his grin widen. She knew that he secretly loved to know that there were people who cared about him. "He's right here, if you want to talk to him."

"_No, that's alright. I don't want to overwhelm him,"_ Grace replied. Lisbon heard her swallow before continuing. _"Was he arrested?_"

"Jane? No." Lisbon was briefly puzzled before finally understanding. "Oh." It was her turn to swallow hard. "Grace, it was me."

"_I don't… oh!" _Grace stammered. _"Well, are _you _okay?"_

"Yes, I'm fine too."

"_I'll be home tomorrow, boss. You can fill me in then."_

Teresa smiled again. "Okay, I can't wait. We all miss you."

"_Believe me, I miss you all too. This hasn't exactly been a pleasant family vacation."_

"I know," Lisbon murmured. "I'm sorry."

"_Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."_

"Bye, Grace." Lisbon hung up the phone and looked at Jane. "She's sweet."

"Yes, she is," he replied with another smile.

"Jane," she said. "We need to talk."

"Here?"

"No." She crossed her arms as the coroners wheeled one of the body bags toward the van. Her eyes flitted to Jane's again, to see if he was watching the coroners, but he didn't seem to notice them. His own eyes were fixed on her. "Maybe you could come to my apartment."

"Maybe I could."

They stared at each other for a few moments longer before Lisbon finally cracked a smile. "Alright then," she said, amusement coloring her tone. "Six o'clock?"

"Six o'clock." He grinned back.

"I should probably go deal with Bertram." As soon as she said it, her heart sunk. She really was not looking forward to that. What would she tell him? She wasn't even sure how or why Jane had found Red John in the first place. They hadn't even dug up Red John's true identity. Without even realizing, she reached up and touched the necklace Jane had given her as she stared off into space. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his grin widen, and her head snapped in his direction. "What?"

Jane nodded at her hand. "It's almost a habit now."

She looked down at the hand that was toying with her emerald jewelry. "What is?"

"I've noticed it for a while now, but I chose not to say anything." He took a step forward and brushed his fingertips along her arm again. "When you are thinking hard about something, most often worrying, you subconsciously reach up and touch the necklace." He dropped his arm. "When things are bad, you reach for your crucifix, like when something reminds you of your mother, or your childhood." Jane quickly moved past that subject. "But when it is something irrelevant, you reach for the emerald."

Lisbon tried to ignore the fact that her cheeks were burning, and she was sure that Jane noticed. "First of all, this is not _irrelevant. _This is serious. I just shot and killed two people; one was a wanted serial killer. And the other… well, I still don't really understand who she was. Not only did I kill two people, but I also did it without anybody knowing where I was, what I was doing, _and _I entered the house without a warrant. So no, Jane, dealing with my probably-angry boss is not irrelevant."

Before she knew it, a warm pair of lips silenced her before she could continue ranting. She allowed herself a short two seconds to indulge the moment before reluctantly resting her hands on his chest and pushing him back gently. "Hello. We're at a crime scene, surrounded by people who _know _where to find the probably-angry boss in question."

Jane brushed the fingertip of his index finger along the bridge of her nose and she let out a sigh. "Relax," he breathed, smiling. "Nobody saw." He gestured around them, and she found that he was right. The coroners and forensics were too wrapped up in their work to notice, and if they had, they weren't letting on. Cho and Rigsby had already left, thank heavens, and were on their way back to the CBI.

"Still," she grumbled.

"Are you complaining?"

"Not at all," she blurted before she could stop herself.

Jane chuckled. "Is there a second of all?"

With a quick glance around, she stretched up on her tiptoes and planted the briefest of all kisses at the corner of his mouth. She smirked and pulled away, turning and walking toward her car.

"You are such a tease," she heard him whine as she strolled (or hobbled) away from him.

X

Six o'clock sharp was when the knock came on her door.

She laughed and hopped up from the couch, turning off the TV and walking toward the front door. She found herself nervously playing with her hair, and then she just rolled her eyes and threw open the door.

He stood in front of her with a large brown paper bag wearing jeans, a flannel, and a bright smile. He raised the paper bag. "I bring Chinese."

She stepped aside to let him pass and watched as he set the bag on her kitchen table. She allowed herself to admire him as she shut the front door slowly. "What are you wearing?"

His smile faltered ever so slightly. "What do you mean?" He glanced down at his attire. "Is this not suitable?"

_Oh, it is most definitely suitable. _"No, it is," she said. "I just didn't know that you owned jeans." She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Or, you know, a shirt that isn't a vest."

"I know what you mean." He smirked. "I didn't really picture you as a sweatpants kind of girl."

Her face flamed when she realized what she was wearing. When she had arrived home, she had thrown on a pair of baggy grey track sweats from high school and a Chicago Bears sweatshirt with every intention of changing into jeans and a T-shirt before her company showed up. Well, apparently that had slipped her mind.

"What did you expect? A prom dress?" she quipped. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I am not disappointed in the slightest," Jane assured her. "In fact, I find it extremely sexy."

She rolled her eyes and reached for the brown paper bag.

"So, I'm guessing we eat now and talk later?" Jane presumed.

"Yes. I'm hungry."

X

Not only was the meal itself delicious, but Lisbon also found herself enjoying Jane's company. Even when they weren't saying anything, even when basically the entire meal passed in silence, Lisbon was enjoying having Jane present.

After they were finally finished and their bellies were full, Jane got straight to the point. "Alright. Spill."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said you wanted to talk. Let's talk."

"Okay, but you get to choose the subject we discuss first."

He laughed. "How many subjects did you have in mind?"

"Just two." She smiled.

Patrick crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair with a smirk. "Ah, let me guess." He brought his index finger to his chin, as if he were thinking. "Red John, and… us."

"Now I know why they called you Boy Wonder," she said sarcastically.

"Well, if we must talk about Red John I would rather get it over with. So let's begin with him."

"I killed him."

Her blunt approach didn't seem to faze him. "That you did. Bravo."

"No, seriously. You're not mad at me?"

"Would it make a difference to you if I was?"

For some reason, his words stung. Had he been lying earlier at the crime scene? "Not really," she admitted, looking down at her folded hands in her lap. "I mean, I don't regret saving you, nor do I regret killing him. Even if you were mad, I wouldn't regret any of it. But still, I hate it when you are angry with me."

Never in a million years had she ever thought that she would be confessing this to Jane. Judging by his expression, neither had he.

"Do you?" he challenged.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Yes. I do."

He stared at her. "Well, you're in luck. I am truly not angry with you. But why do you hate when I _am _upset with you? You don't seem to care when anyone else is angry with you."

"You're different. You're a flight risk."

He studied her expression, probably to see if she was joking. She wasn't. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes," she answered boldly.

"You think I would just take off, leave you here?"

"Absolutely. You have threatened to do it before."

"That was a long time ago."

"But there's no difference!"

Jane leaned forward on the table and looked her in the eyes. His blue eyes were so sincere that she was a bit startled. He had his guard down. She had only seen him like this a handful of times, and each time it scared her. "There is a difference, Teresa," he whispered. "The difference between then and now is that now, you are in love with me."

Her jaw dropped. "What are you-"

"I thought I would ease into the second topic." He smiled sheepishly. "Turns out I'm not really _easing_."

She tried again. "What are you talking about?"

He glanced around nervously, and she took a mental photo. Patrick Jane, nervous? "I see the way you look at me," he said softly. "You don't look at anyone else like that. And maybe I'm mistaken. Maybe I am making a complete ass out of myself right now and you are going to kick me out of the apartment any second. But you should know that when I look at you, it's like… complete tunnel vision. I can't see anything else."

She was speechless.

She didn't know what to think.

So she just stared at him, like a complete fool.

"_Am_ I wrong?" he asked.

She tried to look away but he held her gaze, and she couldn't avert her eyes.

"No," she finally answered. "You're not wrong."

With a satisfied look on his face, Jane stood from the table and placed a hand on the back of his kitchen chair, dragging it to the other side and sitting down next to Teresa. She stared at him, wondering what he would do next. "Can I help you?" she teased.

"I like you, Teresa."

"You mean you… like me, like me?"

"That's very mature."

"So, are you going to take me to the drive-in movie theater? Are you going to pull the old yawn move and put your arm around my shoulder?"

"Something like that." He grinned and leaned in for a long, drawn-out kiss. He let his fingers tangle in her dark locks and she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Their lips melted together the way she had always dreamt about. She just couldn't believe this was happening.

When he pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, she bit back a moan of disappointment.

"Would you like me to say it?" he whispered.

"Say what?" she asked breathlessly.

He sighed. "You know what."

She knew exactly what he meant.

"I already know," she whispered back, then pulled him close again.

**A/N: **I know. A cheesy ending to a somewhat depressing story. And yes, as I was writing this, I did see the irony in Jane telling Lisbon that he wouldn't leave. In fact, as I was writing it, I started laughing a little. Oh well. I would really like to know what you guys thought of this last chapter. So please review!

I have a fic idea in mind, so just watch for my next story in the Mentalist archive!


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